Hallowed Time Twists
by Muffliato
Summary: Mixing the Potter kids with the Master of Death, not-so-secret horcruxes, haywire magic, and the dawning Second War was always fated to end in catastrophe. All was well? Harry Potter really shouldn't have tempted fate like that... [Next Gen Time Travel]
1. Snuffles and Secrets

**Author's Note:** This is my first fanfic and most beloved baby. My baby, I tell thee! Who I created through blood, sweat, tears, and my original 'wtf?' reaction to HP's Epilogue.

This story encompasses all that I wished had happened in the fantabulous HP series. These books were my childhood, but I will always wish that Rowling had taken a darker turn with this—admittedly children's—series. So while this tale starts out light-hearted, consider yourself warned: 'Happy Endings' aren't exactly my thing. I love comedy, I love tragedy, and I was sorely depressed at my inability to find a complex Next Generation time travel fic that encompassed both. Thus, this monstrosity!

My advice? Run while you still can. You heard me, shoo!

**General Disclaimer:** While my Gringotts' vault might be filled with knuts, it's thanks to my private army of eccentric nifflers and not because I'm profiting from J. K. Rowling's heptalogy.

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**_"_**_People don't understand time. It's not what you think it is. It's complicated. Very complicated. People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect. But actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey…stuff." From 'Doctor Who'._

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Lily Potter was not an easily startled child. She had grown accustomed to, and was quite unfazed by her cousins' antics, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' fireworks, house-rocking explosions, and the paparazzi's frenzied queries. Thus, when the surprisingly calm Summer air was pierced by the youngest Potter's shriek, there was never any doubt about what–or who–had caused it.

It was in fact normal for James Potter to race into the living room, dive onto an occupied seat, and send his little sister spiralling off of the couch. It was similarly unsurprising that the "Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1" flew from Lily's hands, cartwheeled through the air, and ricocheted off of Al Potter's half-asleep head, who awakened with a curse and flailing arms. Snuffles–Fang's son and the Potter's pet dog–gave a snort from the floor before continuing with his nap.

"They're doing it. _Again_." James scowled at his words, pushing something into his pocket while his siblings glared and scrambled off the floor.

"They're old. They shouldn't snog! Especially not on the kitchen table when I innocently walk in for breakfast."

"It's the middle of the afternoon. Plus, you've never been 'innocent' in your life." Al wincingly rubbed his head before tossing Lily's book back to her. "And, wait. On the table? Really?"

Albus Severus could have been the reincarnation of his father, Harry Potter. That is, if either of the killing curses had actually managed to do their job. As it was, Al had inherited practically everything from his dad–aside from terrible eyesight, a megalomaniac after his blood, and a certain overwhelming humility. Not that Al couldn't be humble, for it would be quite embarrassing if a Slytherin was unable to fake it. Although Scorpius Malfoy, that bloody git, kept laughingly insisting that Al needed acting lessons from Lily.

Said sister sniffed. "Jamie, you're a seat stealer. Seat stealer!"

James gaped at his siblings for missing the situation's direness. "I'm scarred for life! Mum and dad shouldn't be doing that."

James Sirius, the seat stealing mastermind of the Potter children, was positive his parents were seers–at least as far as his name was concerned. Hair permanently ruffled so that it practically stood on end, clothes endlessly reeking of whatever latest concoction he had exploded, James thrived by being even more curious, reckless, mischievous and 'lacking-in-common-sense-at-crucial-moments' than his father. But whereas trouble always found Harry, Jamie raced towards it like a niffler set loose in Gringotts. It was an open secret that his 'most favoritest' Aunt Luna was likely to blame. Though she would, if questioned, idly muse that it must have been the Wrackspurts' influence.

Al groaned. "James, shut it."

"I think it's romantic." Lily flipped her book back open, sighing wistfully. "The story of their love is so cute. Damsel in distress, knight in shining armour..."

"Damsel in distress?" Al looked at Lily as though she had spontaneously turned into a hinkypuff. "Lils, aren't you always saying that stuff is rubbish–worse than dad's fangirls?"

His sister waved her hand nonchalantly, once more studying her book. "Duh. But then mum fought and helped save Hogwarts! So dad and mum are like hero and heroine."

Lily Luna, the youngest of the Potters, very much resembled a sleeping dragon which people insisted on cooing over and tickling. Daddy's little girl, she had her mother's spunk, cursing abilities, and bright red Weasley temper all packed into her petite frame. Still, she wasn't much of a Gryffindor. In fact, none of the siblings exhibited traits typical of the Lion House, aside from a disregard for rules and a 'healthy' dose of recklessness. Indeed, Harry and Ginny were shocked when James followed in their Gryffindor footsteps, thinking that his habit of manipulating disaster and escaping in the aftermath (which discovering one of two nargles along the way) was positively snakelike. They were similarly surprised when Al did not become a Ravenclaw, even while they were quite proud that their branch of the family was the first to have a Slytherin Weasley. Though, that was merely because 'Potter, Albus' alphabetically trumped 'Weasley, Rose'.

With Lily being Sorted in less than a week, her parents had finally conceded that they were terrible at predictions and would be even more horrific than Trelawney at her job. So, to avoid losing even more sacks of galleons to George Weasley, they agreed to stop gambling on their kids' possible Houses. Of course, that didn't stop the Potters from separately betting that their little Lily would soon be wearing green and silver.

James frowned as his siblings chattered about heroes, feminism and other rubbish while ignoring the important, scar-inducing point. "Mum and dad are _old_. Old plus snogging doesn't work."

Al rolled his eyes. "They're our parents. How do you think we came into existence? They've done worse than snog."

Both Lily and James paled. "Eww, eww, EWW AL!" She slammed her book shut. "I did not want to picture that. You're both insensitive gits! James for being an idiot about mum and dad, and Al for taking that too bloody far."

"Language, Lils." The oldest sibling chuckled while still looking disgusted.

"Shove it. Like I didn't learn everything from you."

Al blocked out Lily's and James's bickering, feeling that it was more productive to absently gaze around the living room. Damn Scorp for always being late, and _always_ using the excuse about a slow floo connection. How could the floo even be slow? You just had to step into a fireplace. It wasn't exactly master arithmancy.

"Oi! Don't be mad at me because mum and dad are being gross!"

"It's not gross, it's love!"

"Ugh Lils, bad mental pictures."

"That's your own fault! I just meant kissing. Nothing like, eww..."

Straining his eyes towards the overlarge fireplace, Al watched intently for a chance to escape his siblings' shouting, but the fire remained just that–a large fire. No flicker of green, and not even a hint of that prat Scorp who was supposed to have been here half an hour ago. No, the fireplace remained just as it had always been at Potter Manor: faded gilded lining surrounding each worn brick, a thick pile of timber in the middle, and the top mantle perched with precariously clustered pictures in a dizzying variety of sizes and frames. Al darted his gaze over the familiar and unfamiliar faces quickly, but the photos didn't capture his attention like they had when he was young.

Boredom washed over him as Lily and James threw books and pillows at each other with incoherent yells, as Snuffled woke up with a startled yip. 'Nothing strange here', Al thought amusedly, realising that Scorp, an only child, would probably have a heart attack at the thought of this being normal. But this was, after all, utterly tame by Potter-Weasley standards. It was only when curses, tables and gnomes started flying that most of the family even became interested. He supposed that was a symptom of having a ridiculous amount of mischievous cousins, all of whom chose to take their parents', aunts' and uncles' stories about their Hogwarts days as records to break, rather than as warnings.

Al chuckled when he thought of the shouting lectures Aunt Hermione gave his dad and Uncle Ron whenever another Weasley or Potter attempted to bewitch a car, truck, bus, or kayak to fly to Hogwarts. But those stunts, among many others, were now all but a right of passage in the family. Al himself had sent Lily a lovely Hogwarts toilet seat last year, had spent the past two years sneaking into every House's Common Room, and was busily making plans with James and Fred to recreate his Uncles' indoor swamp (which would this time be larger than just a mere corridor. Pfft, child's play).

Still bored, Al absently took his dad's old snitch from his pocket. Tossing the golden ball up and down, he was just about to activate its wings when he thought better of it. The snitch might collide with the flying pillows and—he stopped the tossing in realisation. There was a distinct lack of thrown objects. What?

Frowning at the room's sudden silence, Al looked around to see if his siblings had exhausted themselves or committed homicide. At first glance, it appeared as though a tornado had struck the living room: books and blankets were thrown haphazardly, Snuffles was cowering under the couch, and a line of cushions divided the room into two enemy territories. Lily was sitting calmly in the middle of her's. She held the "Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1" upside down, but was too busy eyeing James suspiciously to notice. Al couldn't blame her–their brother was sitting too still and looking too intent to be doing anything _but_ plotting. James wasn't even glancing at Lily, and was instead examining a glittery thing as he pulled it from his pocket.

Al ignored the war zone and focused on the most present problem. "James, what are you doing?"

"Hmm." He looked up, distracted. "What?"

Lily growled in frustration, throwing her book to the side. "You're planning something and it had better not be a prank on me! What are you holding?"

James' smile instantly rivalled the cheshire cat's. "I found it."

His sister continued growling, clearly looking for a better answer. James gave her a wary glance before clearly deciding it'd be better for his health if he co-operated. "After I narrowly escaped the kitchen, I realised it'd be the perfect time to search for dad's cloak. So I snuck into his office—"

"You did WHAT!" Lily shrieked, for the office was forbidden territory without an adult. "There are dangerous things in there! Dad's—"

James rolled his eyes and lightly shook the glittery thing hanging from a chain. "I wasn't going to _touch_ anything. Sheesh, Lils. I was just innocently trying to steal the cloak!"

"I don't think you know what the word 'innocently' means." Al said dryly, pocketing the snitch (something he'd viewed as a good luck charm since he'd managed to catch it off his dad).

"I didn't find it anyway." James said sullenly, before perking up as he waved the chain around. "But I found something almost as good. Look at this!" He finally let his hand come to a rest and proudly held up the glittery object.

Lily scooted forward. "What is it?"

But Al had frozen as soon as his mind made the connection. "You didn't."

"I did." James smirked, rattling the necklace.

"PUT THAT BACK!" Al panicked, diving for his brother. "Bloody hell, don't you listen to Aunt Hermione?"

Lily puffed her cheeks out in annoyance. "What is it?"

"It's so dangerous! Merlin, if that thing activates—"

"Then we'll be able to see some of dad's adventures." James said smugly, holding the necklace up out of Al's reach. "You know he always leaves out the details. 'You're too young', and all that rot."

Al gritted his teeth. "So you're willing to risk messing with time?"

Lily's eyes widened in recognition. "Ohh, is that Aunt Hermione's new time turner? This'll be so fun!"

James looked very proud. Al could only feel betrayed.

"See Al," James said plaintively, "it'll be fine. We'll go back, hide somewhere, watch all the action, and when we return no one will know we even left!"

Al eyed the time turner warily, but against his better judgement he began imagining seeing the many bedtime stories and family legends in real life. After all, they really couldn't do any harm if they hid, right?

If Al hadn't been too busy staring at the necklace to notice James' mischievous smirk, he would have been much less confident.

"No." Al shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "You heard dad and Aunt Hermione, this thing is really experimental. Not to mention dangerous."

James humphed, as though the idea that a Potter with Weasley blood would avoid danger was preposterous.

"Relax, Al." Lily slid up to her brothers, curiously eyeing the time turner still clutched in James' grip. "We can see mum's valentine that everyone refuses to talk about! We can see their first kiss! Or, or–Uncle Ron's and Aunt Hermione's wedding when Uncle George-"

But James was already shaking his head, making a face. "This is a time turner, Lils. We aren't going to waste it on mushy stuff. Instead, wait. Yes! We'll see the flying car! The escape from Gringotts! Why Professor Longbottom killed the giant—"

"Did Luna let another Snorkack loose in here?" Teddy Lupin stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, looking curiously at the disaster area with the three Potters standing dead centre.

"Teddy!" Lily shrieked. Necklace instantly forgotten, she ran over and jumped on her god-brother, who laughed at being toppled over.

"Hey, Lils. It's been, what? Two days?"

"Three." Lily stuck her tongue out. "Thanks for leaving me with these prats."

"Oi!"

Teddy rolled his eyes at the Potters. "I do have a job, you know. Making sure that food gets on the table, and all that."

"You can't cook." Al shrugged, still glaring at his brother.

"And you come here for dinner." James spoke lightly, but his attention was still clearly on the glimmering necklace.

Teddy frowned, knowing that an angry Al and distracted James could never be good. He followed his god-brother's gaze and gasped when he saw the small silver hourglass. "No bloody way."

James grinned broadly. "I know!"

"No, I don't think you know." Teddy shook his head, joining Al in glaring at James. "How did you even get that? Ugh, never mind. Just put it back!"

"Teddy?" A deep voice sounded from the hallway. James quietly cursed, stuffing the necklace back in his pocket.

"I thought I heard you come in-" Harry Potter stepped through the door and stopped at the sight that met his eyes, biting back a chuckle at the mess that hardly resembled a room. While Al's mum's first reaction would likely be outrage at her maniacs for children, his dad seemed reluctantly proud that his kids were even more destructive than he had been at their age.

"We'll clean it up." Lily squealed, grabbing a pillow and accidentally throwing it over the couch she had aimed for.

But Harry was on the cusp of laughter. Al couldn't blame his dad: Lily looked like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and even the normally unflappable James was horror-struck. 'Although', Al thought while glaring at his brother, 'dad wouldn't be so amused if he knew what was going on.'

"Don't worry, it's not too bad." Harry spoke with a half-smile. "But let's get everything back in order before your mother gets in here, all right?"

As his dad finished, Al watched as Lily and James dashed about the room, flinging items over each other frantically as the threat of their mother's possible ear-shattering reaction ran through their heads. Snuffles gave a terrified yip as he was catapulted halfway onto an armchair by Lily.

Harry shook his head in amusement. Al remembered his dad mentioning he found it hilarious that the threat of Ginny Potter's anger to the younger generation was akin to the threat of Molly Weasley's wrath for his. Al could never quite grasp his father's-odd-sense of humour. Still, his dad's smile was replaced with concern once he noticed Al's and Teddy's still fearful and conflicted expressions. "What is it?"

Al hesitated as Teddy yelled out, "James has your time turner!"

"Teddy!" James paused across the room, arms raised in mid-couch-cushion-throw. Aim thus destroyed, the cushion flew into a corner and slammed into a vase, causing Snuffles to give another petrified bark as he jumped out of the armchair to cower behind James. But, with Teddy's words hanging in the air, the paling Harry took no notice.

"Jamie?" Harry said, moving toward his oldest son as though he was nearing an Erumpent horn. "Do you really have it?"

But James crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at his father defiantly. "I wanted to see some of your adventures. What's wrong with that?"

Harry drew a shaky breath. "This time turner is unstable, it activates if it's dropped or touches magic. Even the Unspeakables have accidentally set it off while testing it! James, hand it back now."

James was less sure than before, and took the necklace out of his pocket in uncertainty. "But if it's so dangerous, why do you have it?"

Al was starting to get annoyed at James' questions. Their dad was clearly nervous around this item: didn't that say enough?

"_Because_ it's dangerous!" Harry answered his son, his frustration showing through his words. "The Unspeakables had security concerns, so Hermione recommended me. And _I_ only agreed because I thought it would be safe in my locked office!" Harry's voice was shaking by the end, though he was clearly focusing on putting his anger aside until _after_ he had gotten the magical object far away from his kids.

James frowned. "You've used a time turner before. They can't be that bad."

"It wasn't an experimental one! Merlin, Jamie, this time turner can go back years."

"I KNOW! That's the point—I WANT TO KNOW THE WHOLE TRUTH!"

Lily and Teddy looked as stunned as Al felt. A screaming and vaguely insightful James was, after all, about as common as Wrackspurt sightings. Still, Al found his dad's reaction even stranger, for he had frozen and was a thousand miles away; as though he was remembering a distant event.

Al frowned as his thoughts wandered from the tense room. He hated to admit it but James did have a point. What they heard about their family's past didn't make much sense. Sure the stories were entertaining, but they all seemed disjointed. And then there were the whispering aunts, uncles, parents and grandparents who always fell into silence whenever the kids walked in.

'It's like the escape from Gringotts.' Al thought. 'It definitely happened, but why did dad break into it? And why in Merlin's name did he become a fugitive–was it because of Gringotts? Then, how did dad begin working at the Ministry?'

Al came back to reality just as Snuffles yelped–his overworked nerves finally snapped by the scream. But Al looked away from the dog to his brother's red flush, for as soon as the yell had left James' lips his furious expression had turned into apologetic surprise. Fingering the time turner, James looked at his dad nervously, opening and closing his mouth to try and say something. Al couldn't tell if a word had managed to get out, but both his dad and brother were suddenly smiling as though they had reached a truce.

Yet, just as James hesitatingly began to hand the necklace back to his father, Snuffles, panicking, raced away. All at once, a surprised James buckled over as Snuffles sprinted towards the door and collided with his legs.

Harry frantically dived for the necklace flying from James' hands. Al and Teddy similarly leaped forward to scramble for the time turner. Lily too jumped into the fray but succeeded only in knocking into James and pushing them both further towards the chaos.

"NO!" Harry yelled as the chain slipped through his fingers, his seeker abilities falling short as his path was obstructed by his family. "GET BACK!"

But it was too late, for hitting the floor the hourglass snapped neatly in half, sending an outrageous amount of sand spiralling out of the canister into the air. Harry and Teddy frantically pushed the others away, but the sand swept by a sudden wind was already all around them, crumbling in Lily's hair, sticking to Harry's glasses, licking Teddy's tongue, spiralling around James' fist, and sticking stubbornly like an itch to the end of Al' nose.

The room and world were already disappearing, flickering out of reality as the sand, desperate golden flings of magic, broken picture frames, and the echoes of Snuffles' barks surrounded the four wizards and witch fighting to escape. All but blinded, Al rapidly blinked and got a last flash of his mum, standing awe-struck in the doorway, staring in horrified silence as her family faded into the swirling cloud of sand.

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**A/N:** Yay cliché time travel fics! Bask in the wondrous plot and grammar that vaguely resembles English. Whoo!

This story takes place two years after the Epilogue: James/Jamie (goes by both names) is going into his 4th year at Hogwarts, Al his 3rd, and Lily is entering her 1st. Instead of working on magical creatures' rights, in this story Hermione did that before working towards equality by being the Department Head of Magical Law Enforcement (working closely with the Unspeakables because of their tests with time magic).

Stereotypic beginning? Yups! But with the genetic Potter/Weasley craziness, people in this timey-wimey universe ought to beware: there be ticklish dragons here...


	2. Tact and Time

**General Disclaimer: While my Gringotts' vault might be filled with knuts, it's thanks to my private army of eccentric nifflers. It is not because I am profiting from J. K. Rowling's heptalogy. Shame, that.**

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_"Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins–"_

_"What blood?" asked Ron. "Surely you haven't still got –?" (Order of the Phoenix pg. 189)_

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Ronald Weasley was being an insensitive prat. Hermione Granger was not at all pleased.

"No tact whatsoever." The bushy-haired prefect huffed, but Ron was too busy with his dinner to hear. Hermione thought this was perhaps for the best, for his speaking would surely result in bits of broccoli being sprayed over the table.

She sniffed. Lack of table manners was one thing, but how could Ron be so inconsiderate to Nearly Headless Nick? Asking him about his death, and commenting about his lack of blood, of all things!

And–Hermione swallowed a spoonful of ice cream as dessert appeared–that git never thought about other's feelings. Not Sir Nick's, not Harry's, not Ginny's, and certainly not hers. After all, they were continuously arguing about everything under the sun: Victor Krum, the Crookshanks debacle, the boys' non-existent study skills and, of course, Ron's tendency to blatantly ridicule S.P.E.W.

'Still, that isn't entirely fair,' Hermione mused, her anger stemming off, 'Ron isn't that bad.' She chewed on her spoon and glanced past the brooding Harry to the redhead picking at his food. 'Ron is tactless, yes. But he's also kind and funny. He even became a prefect, and is as much of a Gryffindor as-'

Her thoughts stilled as Harry dropped his forkful of treacle tart, clamped a hand to his forehead, and rapidly blinked before staring wide-eyed at the Staff Table.

"Harry?" Hermione followed his stare but spotted nothing unusual. Ron looked up from his pumpkin pasty with a frown, all huffiness towards Hermione forgotten once he heard her tone of concern.

"I'm fine." Harry brushed them off.

Instantly, Hermione didn't believed him.

"I felt a breeze, or something." He said, even while lightly touching his scar, a confused look flickering across his face as his gaze remained on the front. "Do you see a, a ripple, a shimmer up there?"

"A shimmer." Ron said as though it was Greek. "Mate, first you're seeing demon horses on the carriages, and now this? Tell me this isn't second year over again." He winced, picturing a towering Aragog with hairy legs and pincers extended. Hermione frowned, 'Demon horses?', but quickly made the connection.

"Don't be silly Ron." Hermione shot the insensitive prat an annoyed look, before giving her other best friend a sympathetic smile. "Harry, is he talking about the thestrals? They drive the carriages, but only appear to people who have seen death. Otherwise, they're invisible."

Both boys stared at her blankly, though Harry did glance at the Ravenclaw Table with a tinge of relief.

"So the shimmer?" He asked with hope.

But Hermione shook her head. "I'm sorry, I haven't the faintest. Can you still see it?" Harry nodded.

"Maybe it's ambient magic from the Professors, or from Hogwarts itself? It has been a centre for European witchcraft and wizardry since the Middle Ages." Hermione found her curiosity sparked. But, since it was Harry seeing this, she thought they should probably leave whatever it was alone. Maybe they should tell Dumbledore after the feast, and avoid being roped into yet another daredevil adventure.

"Shouldn't everyone see it then?" Harry spoke in an increasingly uneasy voice. Hermione frowned: why was he growing more nervous? Was it for the same reason that he kept his hand on his scar? But no, that only happened when You Know Who was near.

Ron was squinting at the Staff Table, but he could no more spot the odd magic than find a hiding golden snitch. "Dunno mate, I can't see anything. But look at Snape."

Professor Snape rubbed his left arm as he stood up stiffly. While almost all of the students still distracted by dessert, he scowlingly whispered something to the Headmaster. The Trio's gazes followed the Potion's Master as he immediately swept from the Great Hall, dark robes swirling around him.

Headmaster Dumbledore's grave demeanour was balanced as his twinkling eyes surveyed the Great Hall as he stood to address Hogwarts. The start of term announcements began as planned, with even Hermione having to grin at the unsubtle allusions to the Weasley Twins' and Golden Trio's trouble making. Yet the Gryffindors' smiles vanished as Professors Grubbly-Plank and Umbridge were introduced, for most of the Lions shared a soft spot where Hagrid was concerned, alongside a common distrust for anyone who could wear so much pink.

_"Hem, hem. Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."_

_Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish (Order of the Phoenix, pg. 191)._

With Umbridge's 'unthinkable' interruption of the Headmaster, the instant dislike proved to be prophetically accurate. Her rattling words pierced the Great Hall, and the students' grimaces only increased when the new professor spoke to them as though they were still in primary school. Fred and George exchanged grins; Hermione groaned internally. Couldn't those two wait at least a day to start planning pranks?

Another breathy "Hem, hem", and all mischievous smirks slipped away as Professor Umbridge's rattling speech filled every crevasse of the hall. Realising that escape was impossible, and not even having dessert to distract them, Hermione saw Ron's and Harry's attentions waver almost instantly. Ron began staring at the table, while Harry gripped his scar with a look of pain as he gazed at a spot next to the Staff Table. Hermione found herself tugged between concern for her friend, and listening to Umbridge's speech with growing annoyance.

_"...progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…" (Order of the Phoenix, pg. 192)_

Hermione frowned, thinking that perhaps it was good that the Defence Against the Dark Arts position was cursed–at least this woman would be out of Hogwarts soon enough. A few of the Professors were clearly having similar thoughts, for most were looking at the pink Ministry official with consternation. But Hermione's indignation was put on hold when Harry suddenly jerked, slamming his elbow into his redheaded friend in the process.

Ron partly came out of his comatose state with a snort. "Harry? Wha–" before abruptly coming to full awareness as a loud thump and flash interrupted the Professor's monotone. Hermione couldn't help but gasp–and instantly regretted it when she choked on a mouthful of the sudden magical smoke that swept through the Great Hall.

Coughing the bitter taste away, Hermione's thoughts rushed at once to what had happened last June. She knew it was irrational, but with Harry's scar obviously acting up, could You Know Who be attacking? Here? now?

Hermione took her wand from her pocket, seeing her best friends do the same. Foreboding coursed through her as she followed Harry's gaze through the smoke. She blinked away the dissipating light, realising with relief and a little foolishness that there was a conspicuous lack of Death Eaters. Still, as the Great Hall came into focus, Hermione noticed that several unconscious people lay just in front of the Staff Table. Squinting against the last remains of the blinding light, she confusedly realised that all but two of the arrivals were teenagers. She couldn't believe she had jumped to Death Eaters as an explanation. Goodness, she was becoming as paranoid as Harry.

Still, Hermione couldn't make any sense out of this. It was impossible to apparate within Hogwarts, and the intruders hadn't used any recognisable magical transportation. If this was an attack, than it was a poorly-executed one. All the teachers' wands were pointed at the intruders, and the three Gryffindors were hardly the only students who had come out of their surprise enough to be alert and on guard.

'Why would You Know Who send such obvious intruders? Or was it him? No', Hermione silently reasoned, 'it could easily be something else'. After all, hadn't Hermione just been telling Harry about the strange magic that centred around Hogwarts? She looked more intently at the awakening and arguing arrivals, feeling her breath hitch as she eyes rested on one of them in particular.

Impossible. Even more impossible than an attack by You Know Who.

For the dark-haired boy was all but identical to Harry. Black hair, green eyes–but younger, with no glasses, no scar, and a wider nose–rubbing his chest as he slowly sat up while glaring at the other boy.

Hermione exchanged a quick glance with Ron, who looked as confused as she felt. But Harry, with his eyes squinted up in pain, clearly had not noticed the boy. When Harry did look up, he met Hermione's bewildered expression. Harry puzzedly returned her stare, and she realised he had no idea why she and Ron were gazing at him rather than at the arrivals.

Hermione shook her head at Harry's silent question, and shakingly pointed to the group.

"Look at the boy." She whispered.

Breathing out in annoyance, Harry looked once more at the intruders. Hermione saw him pause before his eyes widened, his hand falling limply from his forehead.

"Oh Merlin." He breathed, his jaw dropping.

Hermione's mind raced as she tried to reason her shock away. Polyjuice potion or even something like time travel made no sense, for the boy resembled an eleven or twelve year old Harry. And also, he wasn't quite identical in looks.

She swept her gaze over the other intruders. Most of them had red hair, and one of them resembled a young Ginny. The two boys had black hair, and one of them resembled a young Ginny. There were also two adults: a blue-haired man in his twenties, and an older one who-

-who also had black, ruffled hair, and an extremely familiar body shape. An impossible theory raced through Hermione's mind. 'No no no,' she blinked rapidly, 'that's insane. Completely impossible!'

Oblivious to Hermione's inner confusion, all of the intruders were slowly pulling themselves into sitting positions. The Great Hall sat in a similar state of stupefaction. But this was rapidly brought to an end when the jerky upward movement of the dark-haired man called the students into excited anticipation over what would happen next. This feeling only intensified as Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, wands aglow, marched around the table as the Headmaster sent off a quick flick of a disarming charm.

Yet before the spell could meet its target, the dark-haired man once again moved slightly and a rush of golden light and pulsating power blanketed itself over the groaning arrivals, drifting into their clothes and skin. Dumbledore's spell fizzled off.

The Headmaster's brow furrowed, and his usual twinkle was absent as he reached the dark-haired man, who was now looking frantically over his companions. "Who are-"

"Are they all right?" The unknown man gasped in a low voice, and the students' whispers erupted once more at the Headmaster having been interrupted twice in the same night. "My kids, are they-"

"We're fine dad." 'Harry's clone' answered with a slow groan. "At least, everyone's moving. Course, I'm going to murder James as soon as I get the feeling back in my legs."

"WHO ARE YOU?" Dumbledore thundered, and most of the halfway conscious intruders jerked back in surprise, before falling into another round of groans. The dark-haired man was the only one who didn't flinch at the yell, but he did hesitatingly raise his head and turn to face the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress.

"Dear Merlin." Professor McGonagall gasped, automatically moving away. Dumbledore too stumbled back in surprise, and the school gasped when both of the Professors' wands lowered slightly, their expressions changing instantly from fury to surprise.

"Hello Headmaster, Professor." The man, who was still turned away from the students, coughed and cleared his throat. His dark-haired son stared at Dumbledore in amazement as the other intruders pointed at some of the teachers and Gryffindors in shock. "You're both looking well."

The man's voice was incredulous; if he was a muggle, Hermione would have thought he sounded as though he had seen a ghost.

"Impossible. Who are you?" Professor McGonagall had regained her footing and was pointing her wand at the man once again.

"Merlin. Or maybe Elvis." The blue-haired wizard broke in with sarcasm tinged with disbelieving panic. "Cheerfully defying the laws of magic!"

"Don't listen to him." The man with black hair sighed, sending a warning glance at the younger wizard. "We aren't defying anything, there was an accident. My kids found a time turner and-nevermind. Look, I'm taking that it's the 1990s or-"

"Hem hem." Umbridge cleared her throat and threw a disdaining glance the intruders' way. "Headmaster Dumbledore, what exactly is going on here?"

"Ah, 1995 then." The man, still sitting on the floor, muttered something about a toad. "Just bloody wonderful."

"It could be worse." 'Harry's clone' finally stopped staring at Dumbledore. "Imagine if we appeared when you were Undesirable Num-"

"Al!" The man quickly interrupted. "No details until I know what's going on. And nothing about that!"

"Al?" Asked Dumbledore, who tried and failed to reassert his trademark calmness.

"I'm Albus, or Al for short." Al, or the 'Harry clone' waved, and Dumbledore took another step back, looking between father and son in dawning amazement. McGonagall fought back a reluctant smile while Hermione's suspicions heightened.

"Yeah, mum and dad were too creative with our names. Especially James'."

The dark-haired man sighed in exasperation as though this argument had been rehashed a hundred times. However, it was the little redheaded girl who reacted with a start.

"Al's right. Seriously dad, I get 'honouring the dead', but did Uncle George and you make a pact? That's what Aunt Angie says."

One of the boys started laughing. "Dad's not serious, I-"

"SHUT UP JAMES!" The other newly arrived children yelled, throwing him dirty looks in-between groans of pain.

"Enough!" Dumbledore spoke in a reverberating voice that left no room for argument. "Unless you give me proof of your claims, the aurors will be called."

Hermione vaguely heard Ron mutter, "What claims?", while the younger intruders chuckled at the Headmaster's last words. Yet the children's giggles stilled when Dumbledore raised his wand up from the dark-haired man's chest to his head.

"_Legilimens_!" Pronounced the Headmaster sharply, and the spell branched from his wand to meet the still-sitting unknown man. The red-haired girl gave a squeak, but was quieted by a few whispers and half-hug from the young man with blue-hair. Or was it purple? Hermione blinked as the colours shifted. Was she seeing things now? Or maybe the boy was a metamorphmagus. She frowned, considering how rare the ability was, but quickly shook her head and returned her attention to the front.

The Great Hall watched the two unmoving wizards in a silence that stretched across the moments to seem like hours. McGonagall looked from one man to the other hesitatingly. But all at once, Dumbledore took a step forward, his wand dropping to his side as he stared at the dark-haired man like a long lost friend. The man similarly relaxed and looked back at his children with a smile, yet Hermione still couldn't catch more than a glimpse of his face.

The Headmaster stretched out a hand and helped the man shakingly to his feet.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I see we have had an accident with time?" Dumbledore chuckled as the school gasped and the younger Harry give a strangled yelp of alarm. Hermione felt a sinking in her stomach as the miniscule possibility of them finally having a normal year was cursed to pieces, _wingardium leviosed_ off a cliff, thoroughly _reductoed_, and finished off with a round of _avada kedavras_.


	3. French Toast and Future Tensions

**Author's Note: 1995 is great and everything, but we can't just ignore what's happening nineteen–sorry, _twenty-four_ years later in 2019. The panic is only beginning to set in, and Ginny's embracement of CAPITALization would put even angsty!Harry to shame. The poor dear is quite traumatised.**

**General Disclaimer: RUMBLEROAR! (And I'm still not J.K. Rowling)**

* * *

"DADDY!" Came a high-pitched shriek from the kitchen.

Ronald Weasley, happily married father of two, lacked a certain amount of common sense. Hermione Granger-Weasley would usually step in before this had too much of a negative or fatal effect. Unfortunately, Hermione was upstairs in their soundproofed library. In her absence, Ron embraced his Gryffindor bravery, ignoring his instinctual desire to run screaming from the house.

"Rosie, what's wrong?" Ron asked tentatively, poking his head through the doorway.

"Nothing." Hugo answered before his sister could pipe up. Ron, though momentarily relieved, felt his heart sink as he got a decent look at the kitchen. Yes, Hermione was going to murder him.

"Wha-what did you do?" Ron asked weakly. "I've only been gone ten minutes!" Yet apparently it took less than that for the kitchen and his two children to become coated with layers of flour and maple syrup. But even amidst the mess, Ron was most concerned with why Rose was fuming, her bushy red hair shaking as she pointed furiously at–a goopy something–on the counter.

"Don't blame me," Hugo said, backing away from Rose's jabbing soup spoon, "I was cooking. And yeah, it was a bit messy-"

"A bit?" His dad replied faintly. "You've wallpapered the room with food!"

"It's not that bad." Hugo wiped some whipping cream off of his eyebrow and slurped it. "Pig flew in and tried to help. Excitable little owl. I think he's somewhere over in a corner."

A small, happy hoot came from an upper shelf, where vanilla and syrup slurped over the side it great drips. Hugo looked up at the noise. "Or not. Who knew Pig really likes cinnamon?"

"That's not the point!" Rose snapped, clicking her tongue impatiently. "Dad, I couldn't let Hugo ruin lunch. French toast? Please. But look what he's done!" she gestured angrily to the pile of products.

Ron gingerly stepped forward, walking around the puddles of goop. Peering at the countertop, his bewilderment rose.

"Blatant sabotage!" Rose threw the soup spoon down next to the cracked and oozing eggs. "He knew I wanted omelettes, so he ruined them all!"

"I didn't _ruin_ them," Hugo said in exasperation, "I needed them for french toast."

"Then why are they splattered over the counter?" Rose huffed, crossing her arms angrily.

"Because your aim is terrible?" Her brother said slyly.

"What!" Rose squawked. "I had nothing to do with it. Daddy, don't listen to him! Hugo's a compulsive liar–he needs help."

"Says the Slytherin." Hugo rolled his eyes as Rose's glare intensified.

"Kids, kids," Ron interrupted before magic and body parts started flying, "let's get back to explaining how the kitchen imploded."

As Ron listened to his children's screaming insults at each other, he actually found himself relieved. Sure, this was bad, but at least Rose had been cut off before she could grill them on how Slytherin House was unfairly stereotyped against, how snakes were far more cuddly than lions, and how her entire family - excepting the like-minded Al and Lily Potter - were reckless, self-righteous lemmings who insisted on seeking out dragons to attack. If Hermione was present, she would then correct her daughter's arguments as the two gradually increased their volume to ear-splitting levels. Ron suppressed a shiver at the thought.

"RON!" A high-pitched bellow erupted, making the three of them jump at the sudden noise. Hugo and Rose peered out of the kitchen curiously.

"Is that Aunt Ginny?" Rose asked.

"Sounds like her." Ron frowned as his sister continued to yell. "She must be in the floo. Look, both of you, start to clean up in here while I see what's going on."

Rose opened her mouth to argue, but Ron cut her off with a look which promised a grounding for the next week. Hugo tried his own token protest. "But can't you just magic-"

"RON! HERMIONE!" Ginny Potter's shriek reverberated through the house. "I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!"

Ron, for the first time in his life, felt envious of Hermione's oblivious seclusion in the library. Not enough that he would join her amongst the piles of books, but still.

"You two made the mess, so you should clean it up. And no underage magic!" Ron shouted over his shoulder as he walked from the kitchen. Reaching the living room, he gathered his nerves and cautiously opened the door. A renewed blast of sound marked his entrance, and it was only with years of practice that he restrained his impulse to run for the hills.

"WHAT DID HE DO?" Ginny screamed as tiny bursts of green flame erupted out into the living room. Ron shot a quick _aguamenti_ as the carpet caught fire, and restrained himself from rubbing his pulsing ears. He sighed. Excellent, what now.

"You mean George?" Ron asked his furious sister. "Whatever he did, I know nothing-"

"Not. George!" Ginny appeared ready to breath fire. Which, considering she was in the floo... "MY BLOODY HUSBAND."

"Harry?" Ron spoke hesitantly, his heart sinking. Merlin's left sock, this didn't bode well. "Gin, that's not giving me enough infor-"

"WHAT WERE THE THREE OF YOU UP TO!" Ginny shrieked.

"What? Nothing-"

"Nothing? NOTHING!" She began to cry while still yelling. "Don't tell me it's nothing!"

Ron could feel a headache coming on, and decided he had better get Hermione. She was always good at explaining what crying girls were upset about. "Ginny, come through and tell me what's wrong. Where's Harry?"

There was a pregnant pause as the fiery redhead transformed into regular flames, before the actual Ginny came hurtling out of the fireplace to slam into Ron, knocking them both to the ground. Ron tried to catch his breath as he rolled back up to a sitting position. "Gin! Bloody hell, next time give me a moment to-"

"They're gone." Ginny said, her scream morphing into a shocked whisper. "I–I need Hermione."

"Wait, what-"

"NOW, Ron." His sister spoke, gripping her bag as though it was her only lifeline.

"Hermione's upstairs. I'll get her, but what's this about?" Ron asked, pulling her onto the couch. In response, Ginny just opened her bag with a sob. Her brother didn't understand, but peered into it with concern. What he saw didn't clear anything up: it was just some dirt, golden powder, and a glass broken in half. Ron looked back at his sister, confused, when all at once everything clicked into place.

"Oh-oh christ." His eyes widened and he pulled the bag away from Ginny's resisting grip to scan its contents again. "This isn't good. This really isn't good."

Ginny was still crying, but she didn't seem aware of it. Ron just stared at the broken time turner in mounting fear. But one glance at his distraught sister and he tried to push this feeling aside.

"Don't worry, Hermione will be able to figure it out." Ron said with true conviction, while wondering how his brother-in-law kept getting into these situations. "So, Harry accidentally dropped it?"

Ginny shook her head. Ron stared at her in confusion. Hadn't she been screaming about Harry earlier? So who had-her echoing voice sounded in his head: '_They_'re gone.'

"Ginny," Ron tried but failed to hold back his panic, "who was sent back?"

His sister attempted to answer once or twice, before finally managing a devastated whisper. "_Everyone_. Harry, Teddy, and-and the kids."

'Yes', Ron decided as he flew out of the room and up the stairs, screaming Hermione's name, 'now is an excellent time to panic.'

* * *

Just a few minutes passed before the fire again sprouted green flames as a blond, confused boy tumbled through into the Weasley living room. Seeing a disheveled Ginny Potter on the couch only increased Scorpius Malfoy's befuddlement.

A clatter of footsteps down the stairs, and two panting figures appeared in the doorway. Ron stopped suddenly and blustered at seeing a Malfoy, but Hermione clutched a stitch in her side, stuffed a piece of parchment in his hand, and unceremoniously shoved her husband into the floo.

"Ron's contacting the Unspeakables." Hermione explained in a blustered rush, ushering Ginny and Scorpius towards the kitchen. "Ginny, are you alright? Oh, that's such a silly question, of course you aren't. But everything will be fine. Can I get you something? Tea, chai tea, that might help–I'll make it now. Scorpius, are you here to see Rosie? I'm sorry, we're having another crisis, but I'm sure she'll love to see you. Did you have plans?"

Scorpius took a moment to collect his bearings following Hermione's breathless questions. "Ah, I'm sorry about barging in Mrs. Weasley. I was going to see Al today, but was running late. Potter Manor was deserted, so I thought Rose might know where he is. What crisis?"

Ginny burst into tears at the mention of her son, making Scorpius edge away from her nervously as they entered the kitchen.

"Aunt Ginny? Scorpius!" Rose looked up from scrubbing a cabinet to stare in puzzlement. "What're you doing here? Weren't you and Al going to the Cannon match?"

Ginny plumped into a seat, a new rush of tears trailing down her cheeks. Hermione murmured a quick spell to boil water, gave the three kids a vague non-answer about what was going on, plucked the warm teacup down next to her best friend with a sympathetic glance, and ushered the children out into the hallway.


	4. Interrogations and Introductions

**A/N:** Happy New Year! *blows a horn and cracks open a bottle of sparkling pumpkin juice*

And it turns out that writing 'unknown' characters is totally easy compared to writing characters WITH THE SAME NAME! Ugh. Older Harry's name will be in italics from here on out (as will any other future!peeps with identical names to past!peeps who happen to show up in 1995). At least when it's not blatantly obvious which Harry I'm referring to.

Also, Harry lecturing his kids for getting into trouble? Amazingly hilarious. You're talking about the ex-most wanted man in Britain who spent his childhood breaking every rule and law into pieces. Plus, the Potter kids have a dragon-tamer and professional prankster as uncles and their parents are world-famous and more than a bit unhinged. It would be more OCC if they acted like normal peeps, whose life ambitions did not revolve around proving _at least_ one magical legend true. They have standards to live up to after all. But no pressure.

**General Disclaimer:** It would suck to be Merlin. Most powerful wizard ever, and he's immortalised by people cursing over his mouldy left sock and bony pinkie finger? The Chocolate Frog Cards are a way better deal–no wonder Dumbles liked them. Oh, and I'm not Rowling. Just, you know, fyi.

* * *

_The Headmaster stretched out a hand and helped the man shakingly to his feet._

_"Ah, Mr. Potter, I see we have had an accident with time?" Dumbledore chuckled as the school gasped and the younger Harry give a strangled yelp of alarm. Hermione felt a sinking in her stomach as the miniscule possibility of them finally having a normal year was cursed to pieces, wingardium leviosed off a cliff, thoroughly reductoed, and finished off with a round of avada kedavras._

* * *

The Great Hall's eruption of noises was nothing compared to _Harry_'s racing mind. He desperately tried to remember everything he could about the disturbingly absent–not to mention hopelessly broken–time turner. But the surging paranoia and panic made it all but impossible to concentrate.

'Why,' _Harry_ thought humourlessly, finding his footing as the Headmaster helped him up, 'do these blasted situations only occur when I'm _not_ on duty?'

Still, as his groaning kids slowly stood up as well, his panic receded into an overwhelming relief that no one was harmed and that the Headmaster believed him. It was extremely disconcerting to see Dumbledore alive, of course, but for the moment he was just thankful to not be facing a volley of curses. He held onto the hope that while the Slytherin students were surely twitching with paranoid and the Gryffindors raring for a fight, the teachers and other Houses might be slightly less bent towards homicide.

Professor McGonagall had relaxed her grip on her wand, though she still surveyed them waringly. Her lips pursed and James winced at the sight in recognition. McGonagall, also noticing this reaction, paled at the implications.

"Yes, we accidentally time travelled," Teddy growled, his hair shifting to a bright Weasley red, "all because James is an idiot."

"Oi!" James shouted, turning away from the stunned McGonagall. "It wasn't stupidity, Snuffles ran into me. Besides, I was just trying for a prank." At these words, _Harry_ spun around to stare incredulously at his son, incidentally facing the students for the first time. But he barely noticed.

"A prank?" _Harry_ exasperatedly ruffled his hand through his hair, ignoring the gasps of recognition coming from around the hall. "You think breaking into my office and stealing a prototype time turner is a PRANK?"

"Well," James winced under his angry companions' glares, "I, ah, meant that I was trying to find the cloak. Finding the time turner was just good luck."

"I'm blaming the damned Weasley genes." _Harry_ mumbled, his head dropping into his hands, his calm facade neatly disappearing in a groan. As far as unintentional stage whispers went, this was loud enough for Hermione to give a squeak of realisation. Still, _Harry_ couldn't find it in himself to care. Why couldn't his kids have just an ounce of common sense? And of course the dangerously impossible would have to happen with his kids–he supposed it had only been a matter of time.

"Weasley genes?" Al arched an eyebrow at his dad, surprise overcoming his rage at his brother. "Granddad James was a Marauder, and you basically broke every wizarding rule by the time you were Teddy's age."

"True dad." James shot a thankful look Al's way, but only received an angry stare back. "Um, well, at least I haven't broken into Gringotts yet!"

_Harry_'s head snapped out of his arms as he pushed his glasses away to rub his eyes. "No dragons Jamie. No, I mean it! I don't care what I did–if you _ever_ attempt to ride a bloody dragon than you are grounded from Quidditch until you graduate. You're in enough trouble as it is. And both of you, stop mentioning future events!"

James gulped as his plans for taming a Hungarian Horntail were stomped on. "Right, no dragons. Or their eggs I supp-" he stopped at his father's glare "-right then, no eggs."

"Who knew." Draco Malfoy muttered, with _Harry_ only just catching the words. "Saint Potter's offspring are also blundering Gryffindors. How thick are they? You _turn_ a time turner–even Scarhead should be able to figure that out."

Whispers swept around the students after Malfoy's low statement. While Flitwick reprimanded the outspoken Slytherin, the Great Hall had already shifted from a petrified silence to animated conversation as one and all blatantly gawked at the new group.

The Ravenclaws and Slytherins looked at the time travellers doubtfully, clearly distrustful of taking Dumbledore's word as ironclad fact; especially with his claim that a time turner had travelled back years rather than hours. The Hufflepuffs were hesitantly optimistic while most of the Gryffindors stared at the adult Golden Boy and his family in growing excitement. The latter's Quidditch Team was especially enthused, the Weasley Twins a moment away from bursting into cheers of 'We've got Potter! We've got Potter!' But _Harry_ looked away from this overall scene to seek out one face in particular. The person among the Lions who was not solely shocked or excited. Ah, yes. Oh dear god there he was.

Focusing on the familiar boy, _Harry_ all at once heard Hermione's voice lecture in his head: 'Don't let anyone from the past see you, _especially not your younger self_!'

Well, he had definitely shattered that rule to pieces.

For while almost all of the students had various emotions spiralling across their features, the younger Harry Potter's pale expression was frozen in place. _Harry_ doubted his past self had even comprehended the last few minutes, for he didn't seem to have gotten over the 'image' of a middle-aged version of himself–complete with a wedding ring and delinquent kids.

_Harry_ watched his counterpart stand, wand held securely in front of him. From the surprised look on the boy's face, _Harry_ guessed he was still on automatic. But Harry didn't resume his seat, even when Hermione came out of her reverie to pull frantically on his robes and hiss something which was ignored.

Rubbing his forehead from a force of habit, _Harry_ noticed his past self's bright red scar. Merlin, that must hurt-his eyes widened as apprehensive realisation struck: his fifteen year old self would still be a horcrux! Bloody hell, that was a disconcerting thought. Almost as bewildering as seeing this younger version of himself and all his friends. _Harry_ just prayed they would be able to leave before the horcrux became an issue, especially since he hadn't wanted his kids to find out about Voldemort's soul pieces. But with the familiar holly wand still pointing straight at him, he wrenched himself away from these thoughts and refocused as his other self narrowed his eyes and began to speak.

"What's going on here?" There was a slight panic around Harry's words though it was clear he couldn't believe any of this was real. _Harry_ didn't blame him, he was feeling similar.

"Hi Dad!" James cried, waving to Teenage Harry. His chagrined expression instantly changed to mischievous as he tried his best to make a bad situation even worse. _Harry_ suppressed a groan as his younger self froze at spotting the grinning James: a boy with Weasley red hair and Potter nose, mouth and smile.

"So," Harry addressed _Harry_ as his shock gave way to paranoia, "you're me I suppose? From the future or whatnot?"

_Harry_ tilted his head, wondering how in Merlin's name he was supposed to answer that. "As impossible as it sounds, yes, I'm Harry James Potter." Both Harries ignored the hall's gasps at this statement. "We accidentally travelled back because of a broken time turner."

The younger Harry just chuckled, levelling his wand at his older self. "Really, you think I'm that stupid? Time turners only go back hours-"

"The one Hermione and I used in my third year did." _Harry_ interrupted with fake lightness, his mind reeling as he tried to strategize while scrutinising his counterpart. "But there have been improvements since then."

"Stop! This is absolute bollocks, this isn't possible." Harry burst out, looking at the new arrivals so suspiciously that Mad-Eye Moody would have been proud. "What's more likely: another convoluted plot from Voldemort," Harry ignored the winces from around the room, "or that I and 'my kids' travelled back twenty years in time?"

"Twenty-four years, actually." Teddy stated before his godfather hushed him with a look.

"I don't know how you convinced Dumbledore," for the Headmaster was still chuckling as the younger Harry continued his rant, "but you haven't shown me any proof." _Harry_ frowned for a moment before looking at his teenager counterpart curiously.

"What would convince you?"

All Harry said in reply was a few lines of hoarse hissing, making Ginny and a few others around the Great Hall flinch. The future children looked at their father for an explanation but _Harry_ could only give a bemused and worried smile.

Oh, bugger.

"Right. That. I never realised how odd it sounded." _Harry_ shuffled his hand through his hair. "Unfortunately, I'm not a parselmouth anymore." Teddy and the other future kids looked even more confused and _Harry_ avoided their questioning stares.

Dear god, _Ron _would howl with laughter if any of this surreal adventure got back to him. _Ginny_ would likely have a much more explosive reaction, but _Harry_ quickly moved on from thoughts of his wife as worry swept over him. He instead mused on how _Hermione_ would surely lecture him on his recklessness while ignoring his usual protests that, no, he did not set off to look for trouble, it just found him.

Yet her lecturing would typically increase in size, volume, and duration if _Harry_ dared to mention 'karma', 'fate', or made any suggestion that the universe was peeved at him for something which was absolutely, in no way his fault. It was like Snape's hate; undeniable, but having very little to do with _Harry_ himself. He paused at this thought to shuffle the realisation that the Potions Master was alive off to the corner of his mind currently reeling over the similar 'revelations' concerning Sirius, Dumbledore, and Remus.

The Lupins. Oh, bloody hell.

_Harry_ cast an anxious glance at his godson as the Great Hall continued to buzz about the parseltongue surprise. Teddy's expression was, unsurprisingly, mirroring James', Al's and Lily's shocked looks. But his was not the dramatic shock which would certainly accompany realising that his birth parents were alive, especially since the metamorphmagus had always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. _Harry_ felt a sinking sensation in his stomach and guiltily stomped it away. He knew he should be elated that Teddy would get the chance to meet Remus and Tonks–and he was, of course he was.

But that didn't stop the sudden fears from filling _Harry_'s mind. He had been there for Teddy ever since he was a baby and no bigger than a quaffle. He had been dreadful at parenting things at first, but with Andromeda's and Molly's help he was reading bedtime stories, changing nappies, and playing peek-a-boo like a pro. Teddy had lived primarily with his gran but his godfather had always been there: from staying up all night when the young wizard came down with dragon pox, teaching him to ride a broom (and how to cast good cushioning charms), telling him the secrets of the Marauder's Map, catching him teach James and Al an assortment of creative swear words, and helping him avoid a furious Bill once he started dating Victoire. _Harry _might have only officially been a godfather but Teddy had always been his oldest son.

Except that, he wasn't. Not by blood, not by law. And this time travelling fiasco–coupled with the possibility of seeing an alive Remus and Tonks–suddenly made this point blaringly obvious.

'It'll become clear to Teddy too.' A little voice in the back of _Harry_'s head murmured. 'After this, there will be no more slips of the tongue where he says 'dad' instead of 'godfather'. He was already drifting away, and didn't really view himself as a true Potter. This could easily be the nail in the coffin.' But _Harry_ was thankfully, finally wrenched from his thoughts at a sudden flurry of activity from the Gryffindor Table.

"What?" Hermione spoke disbelievingly as she and Ron stood up next to Harry, raising their wands at the intruders. _Harry_ rapidly remembered the problem with parseltongue. "You can't just lose an ability!"

"Hermione, Ron, when have I ever followed the rules of magic?" _Harry_ said, forcing his doubts away as he scrambled to invent an explanation that had nothing to do with a certain scar horcrux. "The parseltongue came from my connection with Voldemort, so why shouldn't the ability vanish if he disappeared?"

The young 'Golden Trio' continued to point their wands resolutely, though Ron and Hermione flinched at Voldemort's name. _Harry_ wasn't surprised at the lack of reaction to his spur-of-the-moment excuse; it sounded silly even to him. He was just too distracted to think of something more believable.

"Headmaster," _Harry_ turned to Dumbledore, silently admitting to having no idea how to talk himself out of this one, "you know what must have happened, and why it should be kept secret. Can you reassure my-my younger self that losing the ability to speak to snakes is entirely possible?"

Dumbledore seemed puzzled for a moment, before looking at both Harries with joy once he understood what his 'old student' was implying. "All of them are gone? Including-"

_Harry_ nodded. But his smile was strained, for his thoughts once more strayed. But this time the depressing focus was on the horcrux, hidden in the figure staring at him with narrowed green eyes.

"My dear boy." Dumbledore continued happily. "I knew it was only a chance, but thank Merlin!"

_Harry_ half-smiled. "I've been doing that since the day I survived. But, could you please assure everyone I'm not a Death Eater? I'd rather my younger self didn't curse my family and I."

"Of course, of course." Still twinkling ferociously, Dumbledore turned to the Gryffindors. "Mr. Potter, I am afraid you will have to settle for another form of proof. What your, ahem, older self has said about parseltongue is quite correct."

Harry frowned, but his wand didn't lower as he glanced at his friends, then back to the mystery before him. "Tell me something no one else would know."

_Harry_ again frowned as his thoughts drifted in a myriad directions. He wished Dumbledore would be slightly more help. "I could talk about the Marauders; dog, stag, wolf and rat, but Wormtail would know that. I guess it isn't enough?"

Harry answered his older self with a tense nod.

"Right then." _Harry_ sighed, thinking back to obscure memories–trying to keep to ones he'd already mentioned to his kids.

"Professors? Remember that all this rule-breaking occurred years ago." _Harry_ took a deep breath and turned back to face Gryffindor Table. "First year, you three and Neville came face-to-face with Fluffy, we became friends over fighting a troll, and Hermione and I smuggled a dragon egg out of Hogwarts–not now Jamie. Second year Hermione actually convinced us to break the rules by making polyjuice and sneaking into the Slytherin's dungeon. Then Fawkes and I killed a bloody big snake and Moaning Myrtle fell in love with me. Oh, and Ginny sent me a singing Valentine–no kids, I'm not telling the story. Gin would set a bat-bogey hex on me or make me actually get that blasted tattoo."

Older Harry paused as he swept over the bewildered faces in the Hall, coming to rest on the Gryffindors where Ginny and the three fifth years were decidedly red-faced. Hermione was the most flushed, but her wand had dropped to her side as she stared back at _Harry_ with a soft smile. Ron's and younger Harry's wands, however, were still pointed straight at him. _Harry_ sighed and continued, unsurprised at their suspicion.

"Was I really that stubborn? Fine. Third year I kept seeing a Grim everywhere and was convinced I was going mad." Both Harries ignored Parvati's and Lavender's shrieks.

"It turned out it was just my godfather; a dog-brain who decided to befriend Crookshanks, of all creatures. That year was also when we had our first misadventure with time. Hermione went crazy, Ron's rat betrayed us, Moony turned Moony, and Snuffles was rescued via flying hippogriff."

Still faced with the two students' wands, _Harry_ sighed and hesitated before continuing the story.

"You really don't want me to go into fourth year, do you? The graveyard, 'Kill the spare', and echoes of mum and dad?" Younger Harry's expression turned from pale to ashen and his wand dropped slightly, but not completely. _Harry_ turned to his kids–who had been listening and mentally taking notes–and abstractedly rubbed his glasses. He thought for a few moments before suddenly shaking his head.

"Oh Merlin, I'm an idiot." _Harry_ raised his wand and while a few of the teachers made slight movements of protest, they stopped when it became clear that he was aiming away from the students.

"_Expecto patronum!_"

A bright silver stag burst forth and raced on air, spiralling gracefully across the room. While an impressive show of magic would usually bring forth gasps or awed sighs, the Great Hall remained peculiarly silent as the patronus returned to _Harry_ before disappearing into whiffs of smoke. Whispers broke out at the end, rippling around the tables like lapping waves.

Ron's wand arm finally dropped to his side, and he joined Hermione in staring at the new group in wonder. Yet the moment dragged on as _Harry_ watched his younger self's face transform from suspicion, to shock, to absolute horror. _Harry_ frowned, for he couldn't think of what had caused that last emotion.

"Do you believe me?" _Harry_ asked.

Harry, returning to a shocked expression, paused before shaking his head negatively. _Harry_ frowned at his past self's ridiculous stubbornness, but at least the other Harry's horrified look was vanishing. Maybe his plan for the next 'revelation' wasn't such a good idea.

"There is one thing I never wanted out in the open." _Harry_ said hesitantly. Younger Harry's grip on his wand became slack as the Great Hall came to an even more eager attention. Ron and Hermione looked at their friend in concern.

Clearly steeling his nerves, Harry replied. "I want proof."

Another glance at his kids and _Harry_ decided that, while it was risky, he couldn't think of any information that would be more convincing. So he took a breath:

"Your cupboard in Privet Drive."

"My what?" Harry's arm dropped completely to his side. His wand would have fallen to the floor if Hermione had not stooped and grabbed it just before impact. "I, I don't believe this."

But instead of answering, _Harry_ closed his eyes as he had a quick internal debate and cursed infernal time magic. Opening them again, he turned to face Dumbledore. "I'm assuming everyone will be obliviated once we return to our own time?" At the Headmaster's nod, _Harry_ threw another furtive glance to his curious children.

"Hermione, Ron, your suspicions about my relatives were correct."

Silence steeply enveloped the Great Hall as any remaining slight smiles on the Golden Trio disappeared. Hermione gaped at Harry while Ron looked a moment away from hitting something. Preferably the Dursleys.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Ron's whisper, even in the frozen stillness, was only loud enough for the three of them to hear.

"I," Harry hesitated, realising that his wrist was being held in a Hermione-death-grip, "it's not. This is mental! The man's lying, he's definitely not me, I never-"

"Harry! You can't lie to save your life. Don't even try to get out of this." Hermione whispered frantically, her eyes welling with tears. She breathed in, calming marginally, before looking at Harry with a pleading expression. "Please answer Ron. Why, why didn't you tell us? What aren't you telling us?"

Flushing heavily, Harry was only slightly aware of the whispers and craned necks, or that his apparent older self was being interrogated by his–_his_–alarmed kids. All he could feel were his friends' piercing looks, Hermione's somehow tightening hold on his wrist, and Ron's grasp on his other arm which was also quickly shutting off circulation.

"I just never talk about it." Harry muttered. "I wasn't keeping it from you, it just-it just happened. All right?" He finished with a slight note of anger, his scar piercing as he frantically wished to be anywhere else. The Forbidden Forest? No problem. Drop him in the Black Lake or the Chamber of Secrets? Cheers.

"Harry," Hermione's voice was extremely soft, "we know about the locks and bars before second year. Was there-was there ever-" she stumbled and looked imploringly at Ron.

"Blimey mate." Ron sighed and steeled himself. Taking a quick glance around at the students trying to eavesdrop, he hollowly whispered. "They didn't feed you, did they? With your owls before fourth year, we started to guess. You're always so, well, scrawny. Drives mum mad whenever she sees you."

Harry knew he couldn't ignore the question, so nodded. He felt both of his friends' holds loosen as they looked at each other.

"They didn't, I mean." Hermione huffed in frustration as she began to tear up. "Did they ever hurt you?" Harry hesitated, about to shake his head furiously, but he needn't have bothered. His slight pause gave his friends all the answer they needed.

"THOSE MONSTERS-"

"I'LL KILL THOSE BLOODY WANKERS!" Hermione and Ron abruptly stood, their wands outstretched. Harry quickly tugged them back into their seats. Professor Umbridge finally broke from her stupefaction to fumblingly protest the outrageous screaming, but no one paid her much attention.

"Don't be stupid." Harry muttered to his furious friends. "Nothing like that happened, don't go around the bend."

While this reassurance kept the two from bolting out the door, it didn't stop Hermione from mumbling hexing transformations into pigs and whales, and Ron from ranting about raiding Zonko's and overrunning Privet Drive with Blast-Ended Skrewts. Harry sighed–knowing that this was as calm as they were going to get–and simply avoided the Great Hall's confused stares. Even the time travellers had stopped interrogating _Harry_ in order to watch the scene.

"Dad, what-"

"Not now, Al." _Harry_ said, before addressing his younger best friends with slight exasperation. "Both of you should be seers: fireworks and centaurs, honestly?" He shook his head. "You can't kill the Dursleys. It's a long story, but I was actually safe there. Ancient blood magic and the like."

"But they are MONSTERS AND GITS AND-" Professors and students alike stared as the typically calm and level-headed Gryffindor Prefect cursed profoundly, with Ron nodding along beside her, proud of Hermione's vocabulary. The future kids stared at their future aunt with dropped jaws.

Older Harry waved this off. "There's no disagreement about that. But life isn't fair and there is going to be no killing, maiming, or pranking of my relatives. Really Hermione, you and the Unspeakables were the ones who ground into me the importance of not messing with timelines."

_Harry_ paused at this last statement, before shrugging at his younger self. "Actually, maybe it isn't that important. Two of me are in the same room and we haven't caused a universe-exploding paradox yet. Still, are we in agreement that, improbable as it is I really am Harry Potter?" He raised an eyebrow, simply daring to be contradicted so that he could spill more secrets.

Younger Harry nodded but glared at his older counterpart. "Did you have to say _that_? Those two are never going to leave me alone!"

_Harry_ was determined though sympathetic. "What else would have convinced you?"

Hermione, wiping away her last few tears, glared at Harry. "Once this is explained, you, Ron and I are going to have a long discussion. You're not going to lie or I'll force feed you veritaserum. If I think anything should be taken to the professors, you will follow me without question. Are we clear?"

"But, Hermi-"

"ARE WE CLEAR?"

Harry nodded quickly, almost falling from his seat in his hurry to lean away from Hermione's realistic impression of a screaming banshee. Ron merely looked at her with dawning awe.

"What is wrong with you Gryffindors?" Draco Malfoy drawled, eyeing the lions suspiciously. "That was entirely nonsensical. Time travel, really. Why are Weasel and Granger acting even stranger than usual?" Many others around the Great Hall nodded in agreement, feeling more than just a bit incredulous towards this entire situation.

The Weasley Twins looked at the Slytherin Table with wide, oddly menacing grins.

"Fred, did you hear any nonsensical proof of time travel?"

"Not at all, brother of mine." George replied lightly. "In fact, Older Harry basically recited his Hogwarts years secret by secret. Perhaps Malfoy should get his ears cleaned?"

"Grand idea." Fred smiled razorily as Malfoy looked increasingly uncomfortable. "We have the perfect product for that! Course, it hasn't been tested yet-"

"-but it shouldn't be too fiery-"

"-or induce too much excessive singing and nose-tweaking."

George nodded along. "Yes, Malfoy would be an excellent guinea pig. Any other takers? Macmillan, Smith, I saw you nodding. Don't worry, we have plenty of products that need testing."

"Misters Weasley!" Professor McGonagall sent a piercing glare their way while Ernie Macmillan and Zacharias Smith tried to shrink underneath the Hufflepuff Table. "Even with this situation, threatening other students is completely unacceptable! Ten points from Gryffindor for both of you."

Dumbledore looked at the Weasley Twins in disappointment. "Absolutely right, Minerva. But we should perhaps move this along. Could we continue with an introduction of our new guests?"

"This. Is. Awesome!" James jumped up ecstatically while the other arrivals rolled their eyes at his antics. Harry eyed this boy–_his future son?_–nervously, for his personality reminded him of what he had heard about his father. "Dad would never tell us details about his adventures and Uncle Ron was probably making half the stories up. I mean, a fan girl? No way was mum ever-"

_Harry_ coughed lightly, hiding a grin. "Jamie, your name?"

"Ah, right." James frowned before brightening quickly. "I'm James Sirius Potter," he grinned broadly at Professor McGonagall–who clutched her heart in disbelief–and Neville Longbottom, who looked puzzled at his inclusion, "fourth year, chaser extraordinaire! I'm a Gryffindor, which is the only proper house for a Potter or Weasley."

Having said this, James instinctively ducked away from his siblings' angry tackles. This elicited a great number of whispers from the students and the Golden Trio looked at each other questioningly as Hermione finally handed Harry back his wand.

_Harry_ sighed, looking at his kids disbelievingly. "Is it too much for you lot to behave for five minutes?"

"Probably." The oldest Potter child replied, picking himself off the floor and wiping away invisible dust from his shirt. "Blame our genes. On that topic, my parents are Harry and Ginny Potter." James yelped as he again avoided his brother. "Al! The hell?"

"You weren't supposed to say that." Al seethed in frustration while their father face palmed.

"Say what?" James asked in confusion.

"Look around!"

Indeed, the Great Hall had come to an uproar at James' last sentence. Cho Chang and Romilda Vane were on the verge of tears, Michael Corner glared at Harry, Hermione looked surprised before smiling broadly, Fred and George silently exchanged galleons, and Ron choked on air as he stared with glazed eyes at his blushing little sister and best friend, the two of whom were sliding beneath the table. Harry's mind, instead of racing, had gone strangely blank as though his system had been overloaded by one too many shocks.

"Oh," James seemed delighted at the chaos he had caused. "oops. I guess now would be a bad time to mention that Uncle Ron marries MMPH-" Al quickly placed a hand over his brother's mouth in disbelief.

"Are you trying to ruin the future?"

The blue-headed man laughed slightly at their antics. "Al, relax. Everyone's probably going to be _obliviated_ later."

"Yes, it wouldn't do to have knowledge of the future running about." Dumbledore nodded as Al released his smirking brother. "You are quite right, ah, another Mr. Potter I'm assuming?" Harry tried to duck even further beneath the table; Hermione grabbed him under the arm and forced him back up.

The man shrugged. "Actually, no. My name is Teddy Lupin." Umbridge began squealing something about half-breeds, but everyone once more ignored her. The Potters seemed amused but annoyed at Teddy's statement.

"Teddy's a Potter in all but blood!" Al stared at his god brother disbelievingly.

"Still, it's a good thing it's not official." James smirked. "Imagine the look on Uncle Bill's face if Victoire was snogging her cousin!"

_Harry_ sent his son a warning look; Teddy just rolled his eyes, clearly used to James. "My relationships aside: I'm a Junior Auror, I was in Hufflepuff, and was Head Boy my final year. Al, you up next?"

"I guess so." Al smiled nervously at the crowd, ruffling his hair. Harry gulped at the utterly familiar motion.

"I'm Albus, or Al Potter. I'm going into third year, I love transfiguration, Quidditch, and I'm, well. I'm in-" _Harry_ sent his son an encouraging nod, "-okay, don't freak out too badly. I'm in Slytherin."

* * *

**A/N:** The reactions in this chapter are kind of excessive. But if _my_ future self popped in, I'd throw my laptop at her before running screaming from the crazy psycho–I certainly wouldn't invite her in for a cuppa. And hey, I'm just an ordinary muggle with no homicidal maniacs after my blood. If someone pulled this on a kid as (understandably) angry and paranoid as Harry Freakin' Potter, they had better have some world-class proof. Nothing short of veritaserum, info bombs, patronuses, or unsettling childhood secrets could possibly suffice.

See, I'm one of those dreadful writers who loves torturing characters. So of course I would drag the cupboard under the stairs into the open. Seriously, wouldn't Ron and Hermione have been suspicious of their friend's childhood? Or maybe it was outed in a future Daily Prophet exposé.


	5. Pancakes and Parchment

**General Disclaimer: Snape, Snape, Severus Snape. DUMBLEDORE! P.S. I did not create Potter Puppet Pals. Nor Harry Potter itself, clearly.**

**A/N: Omg, it's 2012! Well, it has been for a few days, but I've got to make a big deal about the 'doomsyear', as I so affectionately dubbed it. I was fairly convinced that getting to my actual plot would be a sign of the Apocalypse, and it looks like I was right! For this chapter not only finally alludes to the mysterious, not-so-nonexistent plot, but also explains a few of my lovely time turner theories.**

**Also, I added a little bit to the end of Chapter 3. So I'd recommend heading back there if you want to see the introduction of Scorpius Malfoy.**

* * *

_Ginny burst into tears at the mention of her son, making Scorpius edge away from her nervously as they entered the kitchen._

_ "Aunt Ginny? Scorpius!" Rose looked up from scrubbing a cabinet to stare in puzzlement. "What're you doing here? Weren't you and Al going to the Cannon match?"_

_ Ginny plumped into a seat, a new rush of tears trailing down her cheeks. Hermione murmured a quick spell to boil water, gave the three kids a vague non-answer about what was going on, plucked the warm teacup down next to her best friend with a sympathetic glance, and ushered the children out into the hallway. (From Chapter 3)_

* * *

Ginny Potter was not usually one to tap her fingers nervously. Or twitch at the slightest noise. Or endlessly cross and uncross her legs while fidgeting on a chair. A chair which was coated with a thin layer of something sticky and smelling like pancakes.

'Pancakes.' She thought nostalgically, mournfully, twisting her hair as the kids' protests of going upstairs drifted into the kitchen. 'Why did I tease them about that? So what if Al and Lils top theirs with mounds of cinnamon, Jamie likes his with ketchup, and Teddy drenches his with syrup before eating with his fingers? And who cares if Harry cooks with the wildest flavours? He even converted us to rosemary and chocolate mango pancakes! It's endearing! I was mental to-'

"Ginny," Hermione Weasley-Granger hurtled back into the kitchen. She only just stopped herself from tripping on the slick, syrupy floor and spilling her mound of books. "the Unspeakables firecalled. The time turner can't be repaired, but they're working on alternatives."

Hermione had aged gracefully, having traded her hair's teenage bushiness for a curly bob, her Hogwarts uniform for a sharp blouse and pencil skirt, and her stress-induced under eye shadows for a hint of make-up. Today though, this mother of two had gone from spending a lazy afternoon in her library, to fearing for her dearest friend and close family's lives. Thus, unsurprisingly, she held a swaying, perilously balanced pile of books and loose paper in her arms, while her hair was messily strewn about and trails of ink stains lined her hands.

Ginny, if anything, looking even more strained and dishevelled. Red-rimmed eyes, knots of hair sticking up from her ponytail, hopelessly smeared mascara, and fingernail marks running up and down her clenched palms betrayed her anxious state-of-mind. But she didn't care; how could she? The only thing she could focus on to keep from hyperventilating was time travel. And pancakes.

"I'm a terrible mother." Ginny said hollowly, staring at Hermione without truly registering her presence. "I teased them this morning: that was the last thing I told my kids! But they must know I wasn't serious about the pancakes. Right, RIGHT?"

Blinking, Hermione decided to ignore the non-sequtor mention of breakfast food. Placing her research on the kitchen table, she slowly advanced towards her panicking sister-in-law. "Ginny, we're going to get them back. I just really need you to stay calm."

"I-I'm acting ridiculous, aren't I." Ginny stuttered, fingering the cup of cold, untouched tea. "My family is stuck somewhere in time, and I'm freaking out about pancakes."

Hermione took her friend's hands in hers. "You can do whatever you want, and you're not being ridiculous. Anyone would be frantic in your place! If there is anything I can do, please let me know." She finished softly, but Ginny just shook her head. She had finally stopped crying, and didn't trust herself to speak without bursting into tears.

"They _are_ going to be fine." Hermione spoke firmly, squeezing Ginny's hands. "Harry and Teddy are there, and they won't let anything happen to them."

"But, but what if-" Ginny started in a whisper, unable to finish.

"They'll be fine as well." Hermione spoke, blinking back a few tears. "They're aurors, they know how to handle dangerous situations. Harry has been getting himself out of things like this since he was eleven! Of course, he was usually meddling in the first place. 'Trouble finds me'; mmph, like anyone bought that."

"When I find out he's okay, I'm going to bloody murder him." Ginny said with a hint of her former fierceness, roughly rubbing the wetness from her eyes and cheeks.

Hermione gave a shaky smile. "Can I help? I swear, your husband will end up giving me more grey hairs than my entire family combined. Not that I have any grey hairs, mind you."

Ginny snorted, her regular personality bouncing back. "Oh, Harry's nothing. The kids are the ones driving me barmy: two Slytherins, and two Marauders." She paused suddenly, before finishing with the resolved sigh of one realising a blaringly obvious, unwanted answer to a riddle. "It was probably Jamie, wasn't it."

"Possibly." Hermione said diplomatically. "We won't know for sure until we find them. Still, it won't change anything."

Ginny knew that Hermione was right. But imagining increasingly creative ways to ground her son fed into a distraction which she welcomed with calm relief. It was doing _something_. And since she knew nothing about time magic, it would have to be enough.

"Can I help research?" She asked her sister-in-law, who had returned to studying her papers intently. "Or, or something! I feel so useless. Could you tell me a bit about the time turner itself? I want to understand."

Hermione twisted a strand of hair, looking at Ginny in concern. "It's fairly complicated. What would you like to know about?"

"How far back can it travel?" The words burst from Ginny's lips before she realised what she was saying. For she did not want to know the answer to her question, and stiffened with anticipation as Hermione's mouth opened.

"We," Hermione hesitated, "we aren't certain. All the test results showed was that when you're talking about travelling back years, it becomes very difficult to pinpoint anything without a significant margin of error. There was some success with linking the time turner to specific magical signatures –"

"Hermione," Ginny sighed as her friend all-too-obviously latched onto a tangent, "or so Morgana help me, I'll let loose my frustration with a few curses."

Hermione eyed her nervously. "You and Harry really are identical, aren't you. Look, Ginny, the maximum they could have travelled back would be about fifty years. But for all we know, they might have merely gone back seven days."

"Or anything in between." Ginny finished for her, suppressing a groan. "Isn't there any way to tell?"

"There's a fail-safe." Hermione anxiously flicked through one of the massive tomes. "I'm sorry, I should have mentioned it before. My thoughts have just been racing and-never mind. Anyone with access to the time turner was given a way to send messages forward, in case they were accidentally sent back."

"Oh thank Merlin!" Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. "But how is that possible? Can't only people be sent through time?"

"With time turners, yes." Hermione explained. "But everything 'travels' through time–just at a regular, everyday rate. So if we know where a person in the past is going to place objects or messages, someone can pick them up when they reach our time period."

"What are we waiting for?" Ginny jumped from her seat, frantic strength surging through her at the chance to know her family was truly all right.

"Ginny, calm down." The brunette said patiently. "When I heard what happened, I sent Ron out to get both the Unspeakables and whatever Harry might have left. He should be back soon."

"Where is it?"

Hermione gave a forced smile. "Our favourite place: Gringotts. We were all given the code to one of the Department of Mysteries vaults. Still, it took ages for the goblins to grant access to Harry and I. Heavens can they hold a grudge."

Ginny paused, realising the problem with the situation. "Will Ron be able to get through, though? They hate all three of you."

The other woman's already stilted grin slipped into worry. "Oh my. Yes, that might be an issue. I wanted to see the message as soon as possible, but I also wanted to start researching, so I didn't really think it through."

Ginny nodded in understanding, before stopping in confusion. "How is that possible? Not that I'm complaining, but they're sure to be changing the past, which would change the future. So shouldn't we be feeling some alteration? Or is it already here? Or was there another future created, like in that muggle film you showed us a few months ago?"

"It-well, all that stuff gets fairly complicated." Hermione frowned in thought. "Harry knows not to change the past radically."

"But what if they went back to when his parents were still alive?" Ginny asked in growing anxiety. "If he had the chance to reveal Wormtail as the traitor, or stop some of the other deaths, he would take it."

"No," Hermione shook her head, trying to convince both Ginny and herself, "he wouldn't risk messing up the future. All of us were given heavy instruction about what can and what can't be done in the past. Anything that can be eventually _obliviated_, so as to ensure a closed time loop, is all right."

"Closed time loop?" Ginny asked, rubbing her temples as a headache slowly pounded.

"It's, it's when-" Hermione hesitated in the explanation. "-you remember how Harry and I used my time turner back in Hogwarts to rescue Buckbeak and Sirius? Before we went back, we saw all the events play out from an 'outsider' perspective: we heard an axe drop from Hagrid's hut and Harry saw someone who looked like his father drive away the dementors. Well, when we used the time turner, we kept all of those things the same. Harry had seen himself cast the patronus, and the axe was dropped–but onto a stump, not Buckbeak's neck. That's a closed time loop: something where, even with changes in the timeline, the _appearance_ of events in the past remain the same."

"But, we don't know if this is what's happening."

"To a certain extent, it doesn't matter." Hermione explained. "If they meet and interact with people, that can all be obliviated. Timelines are surprisingly flexible; we'll have a certain grace period where it's still possible to go back, get them, and set things right. The only things that would really break a closed time loop would be if someone was killed who shouldn't be killed."

Ginny head snapped up. "Or if a rare magical object was destroyed. Hermione, what if Harry goes after the horcruxes? Or the hallows?"

But her friend was already shaking her head. "He wouldn't do that. Or, at least, we'll find out. Breaking the time loop would have the same result as that movie you mentioned, 'Back to the Future'. An alternative or maybe parallel future would be created. If Harry is able to send us a letter, we'll know that he hasn't changed anything too drastic."

'At least, not at the time he sent the message.' Both women internally added. Thoughts thus swimming with theories and worries, a period of silence settled in the kitchen. Ginny began to pace, returning to her nervous fidgeting, while watching Hermione skim through her volumes of papers.

"Are you sure you don't want a hand?" Ginny said finally, restlessness clear in her voice.

"Hmm?" Hermione looked up from her work. "Oh, no thanks. These are mainly written in my shorthand, or are just reference books."

"Do you want to move, at least?" Ginny glanced around at the still messily sticky kitchen. "I'm fine, but I can't imagine you're very comfortable studying in here. Why not move to the living room with a big table and sofas?"

Hermione began to reply, when both women froze at the distinct sound of the flaming floo. Without another moment's hesitation, both witches flew from the kitchen, hurtling towards the living room with unabashed anxiety.

"Did you get it?" Hermione cried, rushing to her husband as he brushed ash from his robes. Ginny didn't bother saying anything, and tried to grab the yellowing envelopes from her brother's hand.

"Oi!" Ron protested weakly, scrambling away from the two crazy women. "Be careful with those. And yes, I'm fine by the way, thanks for asking. The goblins were only slightly psychotic."

"RON!" Both of them cried, shooting him annoyed glares as he held the precious papers out of their reach.

"I know, I know, you can curse me later." Ron said quickly. "But I have to warn you about the letters."

"Warn us?" Ginny narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean," Ron took a deep breath, "you aren't going to love what time period they're in."

Ginny's mind raced. Fifty years; which of those years would she panic most about? The answer came to her almost instantly, and she had to clutch the wall to avoid fainting. Her sister-in-law, having reached the same conclusion, abruptly plopped onto the sofa, eyes wide.

"No." Hermione whispered while Ginny was too frightened to even catch her breath, let alone speak. "No, they can't be back there, they could be killed! And Harry-we were on the run-not to mention his idiotic stunt! How is –"

"What?" Ron looked at his paling wife and sister in confusion, before his mistake caught up to him. "Oh Merlin, no! They aren't in 1997 or 1998."

Ginny began to breath once more. "You bloody prat! You just scared ten years off my life."

"Sorry, I didn't realise what I was saying." Ron apologised sheepishly. "Though, you two aren't going to like where that actually ended up much more."

With apprehension, Ginny shakingly took the faded envelope that Ron held out to her. She's recognise Harry's messy handwriting anywhere, and seeing her name written across this envelope in his chicken-scratch penmanship was strangely calming. Taking the letter out and folding over the lined creases, she felt her breath hitch at the its first few words:

5th _September 1995,_

_Dear Ginny,_

_We're fine, we're safe. This 'fine' isn't one of my dramatic understatements. I'm so sorry you saw us disappear and now have to deal with this, but please remember that I love you and that everything will work out. It's the Potter Luck you adore to hate: I'm great at attracting trouble, but there's always some way out of it. We (Teddy, Jamie, Al, Lils, and I) arrived at the end of Hogwarts' Welcoming Feast in 1995. It was tense initially, but everything's now going smoothly. Partly._

_You were right, again: sheltering the kids from the darker parts of the Second War has come back to haunt me. But I can handle and divert their questions; the real issue is with the Deathly Hallows. Ginny, all three of them are in this time, and you know what that means. Just in case things get-out of hand-again, I've told Teddy about the risks. Not the details, but he knows what might happen. ..._

While Ginny had sunk onto an armchair with the relief of the first few words, she abruptly halted at the end of the second paragraph. She reread the sentences to make sure she hadn't misunderstood, and then looked up at a horrified Hermione who had clearly seen something similar in her own letter.

"All three?" Hermione whispered, staring at her paper, hoping that the words would morph into something else. "But, but that's not possible. He didn't possess either the wand or ring in that period!"

"Do you really think it matters?" Ron sighed, brushing a hand through his short hair. "Those things stuck to him like spellotape. Like the hallows would care about a little thing like time travel when it comes to the 'Master of Death'."

"But it's all three." Ginny spoke anxiously. "Harry almost went mad last time! If this nightmare is back; if that bloody ring is back-"

All three paled at the possibilities.

"Harry knows what he's doing." Ron forced himself to speak firmly, sinking onto the couch next to his wife. "Besides, it took a while for it to really effect him after the Battle of Hogwarts."

"That was at the start of peacetime." Hermione pointed out with a grimace. "It got so much worse when he was stressed or angry. God, he nearly took Pansy Parkinson's head off because of her insults! So if they're at the start of the Second War –"

"_Don't_ say that." Ginny threatened weakly, wishing more than anything that she could be with her husband to help him. "Look, Harry will get rid of the ring again. He won't have access to the Department of Mysteries, but it's _Harry_. He'll find some way to do it."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other worriedly.

"Ginny," her brother asked hesitantly, "did you finish the letter?"

"No, not yet. Why?"

"Harry doesn't have the ring." Hermione said, panic prickling through her calm voice. "Which is good, I suppose, because the effects might be diminished. But if he can't find it, he can't destroy it. Which he shouldn't do anyway, since that would even further mess up the timeline."

"What about the wand? Or the cloak?" Ginny said, but without much hope for she already knew the answer.

"Like Harry would destroy his cloak." Ron chuckled humourlessly. "And if he has any sense, he'll keep the wand. That time is too dangerous to do anything but."


	6. Freezing and Fabrications

**A/N:** Confession time. I'm a Ravenclaw prefect [Edit: Presently Head of Ravenclaw!] in my uni's HP Society (a 'college club' for Americans), but I was convinced while reading the books that I was destined to be a cunningly manipulative Snake. I thus have a soft spot for Slytherin House's awesomeness: from their Gryffindorish disregard for rules, Ravenclawish intellect, to their Hufflepuffish plan for secret global domination. Evil? Well yeah. Duh. That's part of Slytherin's charm.

**General Disclaimer:** Sue me and I'll sic Fluffy on you.

* * *

_"I'm Albus, or Al Potter, younger brother and god brother of these two. I'm going into my third year, I love transfiguration and Quidditch, and I'm, well. I'm in—" Harry sent his son an encouraging nod, "—okay, don't freak out too badly. I'm in Slytherin."_

* * *

There was no silence this time. Rather, it seemed as though an explosion had gone off in the Great Hall–

"A snake? A Potter in the dungeons?" Justin Finch-Fletchley whispered anxiously.

Cormac McLaggen huffed, a superior smirk on his lips. "Always knew that 'Golden Boy' was hiding something. Why else would his son be like that?" Umbridge sickeningly smiled as the accusations swept. Dumbledore and his peoples' pathetic lie was coming back to bite them.

"Do you think they're _both_ dark?" Marietta Edgecombe scowled, ignoring Cho Chang's glare. "After all, what about Cedric-"

"STOP!" But this roar came not from Dumbledore but from _Harry_, who pierced the gawking students with an icy stare. "Even though you know nothing about my son, you're condemning him because apparently every Slytherin must be bad?" He finished with heavy sarcasm.

"But they're all evil!" Ron exclaimed before realising what he had said. Hermione whacked his arm and _Harry_ turned his annoyed stare his way.

"Oh really." Older Harry drawled. "Have you met Mad-Eye Moody? Kingsley Shacklebolt? Bloody hell Ron, I was almost placed in Slytherin! Don't tell me there can't be dark wizards in other Houses. Remember Wormtail?"

Ron flushed and ducked his head, muttering a swift apology to his best friend. The latter accepted but continued to look at Al curiously. For Younger Harry couldn't get the thought out of his head that, even aside from almost identical looks, Al was incredibly similar to him. He smiled at the boy, who nervously returned his younger dad's grin.

"OI!" The little redheaded girl hollered, her erupting voice bursting from her petite frame. "Al's smart, hardworking, reckless, cunning, and the bestest brother ever."

"Oi!"

"Shove it, James. You're the reason we're stuck here." The girl turned, smirking, back to the Great Hall, hands placed firmly at her sides. "I'm Lily Luna, younger sister of these knuckle heads. I'm entering my first year and am even more of a snake than Al or dad."

"What rude little children." Umbridge muttered to herself, waiting for the opportune moment to properly interrupt and stop this foolishness.

Lily was about to step back from the Houses' screams of outrage when she paused, tilting her head sideways. "Just to warn you, my overprotective dad will likely blast anyone trying to vex me into the lake. Then Teddy, Jamie and Al will prank them for the rest of the year. Or the decade–you never know with those three." She nodded resolutely at the doubting expressions, and a few Hufflepuffs would later swear that she sprouted fangs around her practically poisonous grin. Teddy, Jamie and Al nodded menacingly. _Harry_ merely groaned.

"No threatening students, no starting fights, no prank wars, and please dear Merlin stop giving hints about the future!" _Harry_ turned to Dumbledore for back-up, but the Headmaster was too busy laughing.

"Wait," Hermione spoke up tentatively, apprehensive to speak to her older best friend in front of all of Hogwarts, "but won't you be back in your right time soon? None of this will really matter."

_Harry_'s smile to Hermione was a bit forced. "We might not be able to leave for awhile. James was playing around with an experimental time turner, and even the Unspeakables don't know exactly how it works. Maybe no one even knows that we went back in time." _Harry_'s frown quickly replaced the last remnants of his weak grin.

"Mum knows." Al spoke up. "She entered the room just as we disappeared."

_Harry_ felt a tug of relief and Lily hugged Al excitedly. "Yay! Mummy will tell Aunt Hermione, and she _always_ knows what to do." Hermione blushed at these words while Ron and younger Harry–finally becoming amused by the situation–chuckled at their friend's reaction.

James, for once, seemed pensive. "Yeah, but imagine what will happen when everyone finds out that dad is gone." His face instantly brightened. "The Daily Prophet will incite mass panic! The Ministry will go berserk! Aurors rioting in the streets! The goblins will throw a giant party for Diagon Alley!"

"Enough, Jamie." _Harry_ rubbed his eyes, wincing as he thought of the mess of paperwork, reporters and frantic family that would be waiting at home. Oh, and he'd have to get to Gringotts soon–Merlin, those letters would be difficult to write.

Umbridge sniffed, having been all but forgotten in the recent events. "Even if we believe these lies about 'time travel'," she said in a stickly sweet voice, "why would anyone care if _Harry Potter_, juvenile delinquent, went missing?" The Potter kids and Teddy–along with the majority of Hogwarts–looked at Umbridge as though she had sprouted another head and was blibbering about being the President of the Galaxy.

"Harry is, Harry." Spoke Teddy as though he was explaining this to a small, fairly dense child.

"He broke into Gringotts and rode out on a dragon! Which is completely hypocritical," James rambled away, "but he almost single-handedly caused a goblin rebellion!"

"He's the boy-who-lived; the man-who-defeated-" Lily listed off, beaming proudly at her groaning dad who was trying and failing to silence them.

"Youngest Head Auror _ever_! But not as cool as being the youngest seeker." Al shook his head in amazement. "Really dad, you caught it in your mouth? Even mum couldn't pull off a move like that."

"-beat Voldemort!" James ignored the winces at the name. "Still not sure how though."

"Harry's on multiple Chocolate Frog cards," Teddy exclaimed, his turquoise hair changing to tartan, "and is the 'new' Dumbledore. Which, considering the stories, is kind of fitting."

"-the Chosen One; the Saviour; Undesirable Number One, stupid ministry berks-" Lily continued counting the nicknames on her fingers, "-rescuer-of-the-house-elves, along with Aunt Hermione; the man-who-survived-marrying-a-girl-with-six-older-br others, that one was Aunt Angie's idea-" *

"LIES! All LIES!" Umbridge spluttered while everyone else looked busily back and forth between the stunned Harry and the softly cursing _Harry_.

"Wait, GRINGOTTS?" Younger Harry's eyes widened as the words sunk in. Fred and George, while shocked, started snickering at Harry's reaction. Particularly since they figured he hadn't yet processed the You Know Who or Dumbledore bits. The Twins looked thoughtfully at the stunned boy-who-lived, contemplating how this could best be transformed into a prank.

James shrugged, a grin all but permanently etched on his lips. "With Gringotts, don't worry about it. Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione robbed it with you."

"WHAT!" Cried the last two members of the Trio.

Lily sniggered. "That's the most popular story in our family. Except for the flying car, because that was epic, and the first kisses which were just too cute!"

"As amusing as it is to hear about my past," _Harry_ ground out through gritted teeth, "can we figure out what we're going to do? The current time turners are too weak to send us home, and ours is stuck twenty-three years in the future." He sighed as his kids' expressions also fell. "We'll probably have to wait until someone comes back after us."

"If I may," Dumbledore stepped up, a twinkle in his eye, "why not embrace this opportunity? Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin, you are Head Auror and Junior Auror respectively?" At both of their nods, the Headmaster smiled happily. "Excellent! I was having problems hiring decent teachers this summer. Could I possibly persuade the two of you to be the Professor and Professor's Assistant for Defence Against the Dark Arts this school year? I am sure Madam Umbridge will appreciate being able to return to her post as Under-Secretary to the Minister."

Teddy and both Harries looked flabbergasted, but Umbridge seemed a moment away from erupting. If this had been any other situation, Harry would have laughed at the reminder of Aunt Marge.

"Headmaster!" Umbridge exclaimed shrilly, her prim smile strained as angry red blotches appeared on her cheeks. "I have not resigned my post and I fully intend to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts under proper Ministry guidelines and protocol! I am also certainly in no need of assistants who are filthy little half-breeds." She sniffed, narrowing her eyes at the Lupin boy.

While _Harry_ had been undecided about the teaching position, Umbridge's last words settled his resolve. A swift chill sped throughout the room, as those closest to either Harry nervously shuffled back as unseen magic swirled around them.

"Madam Umbridge," spoke _Harry_ vehemently, "insulting my kids is a mistake even an idiot like yourself should have known to avoid." He crossed his arms, hiding the scar etched on his hand, while ignoring Umbridge's shriek of outrage.

"You and I know each other in the future, unfortunately." _Harry_ continued, snapping Umbridge's rant in half. "One time we met, I heard a very interesting confession-"

"What nonsense is this! You lying little..."

"-a confession from the person who set the dementors on my cousin and I the summer before my fifth year."

Umbridge stopped speaking as her jaw dropped in outrage. Younger Harry looked between Umbridge and his older self with mounting confusion and anger. The Potter kids and Weasley Twins seemed merely impressed by _Harry_'s blackmailing prowess.

"You, you wouldn't-" Umbridge stammered, the bluster out of her voice.

"Oh, but I would." _Harry_ again cut her off. "After all, I do have a perfectly good Pensieve memory that would be a shame to waste."

"LIES! It wouldn't be permissible! You don't even exist!" Umbridge shrieked in terror.

_Harry_ just raised an eyebrow. "I am, err, will be Head Auror. Don't you think I'd know the protocol and precedence for this? It's not as though we're the first time travellers. But wouldn't you prefer your Ministry job to temporarily teaching? After all, these 'little secrets' don't have to come out. It's entirely your choice."

Umbridge blustered incoherently while James gave a quiet, "Go Dad."

"No PROOF!" Umbridge screamed again at _Harry_'s calm figure.

"No proof?" _Harry_ moved forward and held out his right hand close enough for Umbridge to inspect, but not close enough to touch. Her face paled. "Ah, you recognise your handiwork. Blood quills are highly illegal and an official like yourself would have known this. Are you already planning your detentions?"

Umbridge stumbled back, her hands held over her gaping mouth, her petrified figure resembling one confronted by a basilisk, or by a herd of angry centaurs. _Harry_ had a pleasurable feeling of deja vu.

"Right, yes." Umbridge avoided the professors' suspicious stares. "Right, Dumbledore, I resign. This 'school' is completely out of hand, and is filled with liars and half-breeds." Umbridge swelled with pride. "Why by Merlin would I stay here? I am, or course, still Senior Under-Secretary to dear Cornelius."

"Not for much longer." Whispered James to Al, both of them glaring at the toad.

The Headmaster twinkled. "I am very sorry to see you go, Madam Umbridge. But I hope it will not be difficult to find your replacement." Dumbledore looked at _Harry_ and brightened as the younger man nodded, the latter keeping his gaze firmly locked on Umbridge. "Good, good. Oh, and you are most welcome to inform Cornelius that we now have an excellent Professor, so there will be no need for any further Ministry, ahem, good will."

Umbridge muttered something but, catching _Harry_'s glare, began to confidently waddle towards the door. She never noticed the spell hitting the back of the head. The students twittered at this, but even the Slytherins were annoyed at the woman, and no one made a comment as she warbled her way out of the Great Hall.

_Harry_ gave a sigh of relief, having recognised Dumbledore's spell. His questioning gaze to the Headmaster was answered by the older wizard's slight sweeping gesture over the scores of congregated students. Dumbledore clapped his hands. "Now, Mr. Potter, who do you recommend should be kept aware of this situation?"

_Harry_ thought quietly for a moment before replying. "The professors, or at least those you trust entirely, and the students who know of the Order, along with Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood."

Neville looked confused, Luna looked dreamy, and Hermione looked towards the doors where Umbridge had exited with a squeak of understanding. The sharper students had also caught on, and were starting to panic and grip their wands anxiously. _Harry_ paused, his eyes flickering worriedly to Teddy. "I suppose you'll be letting the current Order know what's going on?"

Dumbledore followed _Harry_'s gaze to his godson and smiled in understanding. "It might be wise to keep this 'close to the chest', so to speak. But I should call at least Sirius Black, the Weasleys, Rubeus Hagrid and Severus Snape since they are not currently in attendance, Remus Lupin and, ah, Nymphadora Tonks–if I have guessed correctly–to Hogwarts?"

_Harry_ grew saddened at some of the names, but was surprised at the mention of Severus Snape. Hadn't he been at the Staff Table the original time around? But his puzzled thoughts were cut short, for Teddy was staring at him in wide-eyed horror.

"Do we have to bring them here? I-I mean-right _now_? Like, _now_?" Teddy stammered, something which was uncharacteristic of his Junior Auror self.

Dumbledore blinked in surprise, for before this young Mr. Lupin had been the calmest of the time travellers. "There is no rush, if you would prefer to take a few days to get used to your surroundings." Both Teddy and _Harry_ visibly relaxed at this statement, but James looked as though someone had just introduced his broomstick to the Whomping Willow.

"That would work out well. Just inform them that you've found new DADA instructors." _Harry_ hesitated but decided not to mention the absent Potions Master. Instead, his gaze darted around the Great Hall. "Would you like a hand with the spell?"

Those students who had reasoned out the situation were now visibly panicking.

"Yes, that would be wonderful." Dumbledore looked happily at his older protégé, before a slightly confused expression crossed his face. "In fact, I meant to ask you: how did you block my disarming charm earlier?"

_Harry_ gave a start at the Headmaster's words, before drawing his wand from his pocket with dawning realisation and slight horror. Dumbledore frowned and followed his gaze, but what he saw only increased his befuddlement. For _Harry_ was not holding the brother wand to Tom Riddle, of holly wood wrapped around a phoenix feather core. Instead, his wand was far more familiar. It was, it was-

The Headmaster almost dropped his identical Elder Wand in shock.

"You have it!" Dumbledore cried to a 'not-quite-guiltily' shifting _Harry_, who also seemed bemused that he could surprise his old Headmaster.

"Well, yes." _Harry_ shrugged slightly. "The wand kept following me around. After I got rid of it for the fifth time, the bloody thing almost knocked me off my broom in the middle of a Quidditch match. I figured I had to keep it, or it'd keep trying to kill me." _Harry_ avoided answering Dumbledore's implied question, flicking the Elder Wand with nonchalance. Luna gave a small yet dreamy gasp of recollection, but the rest of Hogwarts was blissfully lost in confusion.

Dumbledore himself was torn between a mix of emotions, but visibly pushed these aside in order to deal with the more pressing matter. After a short, whispered conversation with _Harry_ about the spell they were about to activate, the two turned to face the Great Hall with raised wands. _Harry_'s apologetic expression panicked the waiting students even more, and they scrambled away en masse from the wizards whose power was already surging around them.

"ARRESTO HUMANITUM!" They shouted in tandem, and almost everyone in the hall came to an abrupt standstill. A handful of students had frozen halfway out of their seats, clearly about to run for the exit, while one unfortunate Ravenclaw had his finger discreetly wedged in his nostril.

The wizards lowered their wands, looking around experimentally.

"Well, that bought us some time." _Harry_ leaned back against the Staff Table, mimicking Dumbledore in pocketing his Elder Wand.

Neville looked at the frozen students and the few still professors with a dropped jaw. "Wha-what did you do to them!"

"Not to worry, Mr. Longbottom," Dumbledore said in an almost-sheepish tone, "your classmates are in no danger. They are merely, ah, frozen in time."

"Frozen in time!" Hermione faced her older best friend with a reddening face. "What, preparing so that you can wipe the memory of the past hour from them?"

_Harry_ backed away a step. He had forgotten that Hermione had always been terrifying–brilliant, but terrifying. He knew his very young friend realised they would lose all memories of the time travellers if ('No no'. _Harry_ mentally corrected himself. '_When._') they returned home, but that this extra step seemed to her superfluous and cruel, rather than necessary.

"Hermione, there isn't much of a choice." _Harry_ eyed the prefect's wand warily. "What if just a single student sends an owl home about time travellers? If Voldemort," he ignored the few winces at the name, "found out we were here, he would at the very least try to kidnap my kids. This time freezing spell allows us some time to arrange everything. Not to mention do damage control."

Teddy, Al, and Lily all sent looks James' way at the last two words, but the prankster was too busy comparing joke ideas with a delighted Fred and George to notice. _Harry_, knowing an unwinnable battle when he saw one, turned back to Dumbledore. "Is it really all right if we stay here?" He spoke. "With Voldemort and the Death Eaters on the loose, Hogwarts is one of the few places where I know my family will be safe–for the moment, at least."

Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "Mr. Potter, I am in desperate need of more teachers and Hogwarts will always welcome new students. However, we might require a few name changes and disguises."

_Harry_ nodded in thanks, but felt his nervousness seep just under the surface of his calm tone. "It would be my pleasure to teach. But I should warn you, I don't have much experience in that area." His kids coughed something that sounded suspiciously like 'DA'. _Harry_ shot them a pointed look while inwardly groaning: didn't they understand that everything could explode if they let slip the wrong thing?

Luckily, everyone just looked at the time travellers in confusion. _Harry_ still felt his panic grow. He wasn't surprised by this. 'After all,' he supposed, 'I was transported to the most dangerous years of my life with my kids in tow. Freaking out would be expected! Even having a ruddy breakdown would be understandable. I can't even try to fix anything–Merlin, I wouldn't know where to start, and _Hermione_ would kill me if she found out I started building my own time turner. That's not even mentioning _Ginny_'s reaction-'

His thought trailed off. _Ginny_. Oh god, she wouldn't be taking this well. He'd probably be bat-boogied to an inch of his life if he ever saw her again. 'No no, not _if_.' He stubbornly forced down the macabre thought, making sure to avoid catching a glimpse of the younger, awe-struck version of his wife amongst the other Gryffindors. '_When_ I see her again.' He forced his mind back to the situation at hand by addressing the group.

"James, Al and I will have to change our looks, since we resemble a certain boy-who-lived." Ron sniggered at the nickname while Harry glared at him. "Teddy's a metamorphmagus, so he's set." _Harry_ continued, thankful to keep his mind occupied. "Lils can blend in, and we can always say she's a Weasley cousin if we need to. Goodness knows its worked well enough for me." Younger Harry and the Weasleys looked curious at this statement, but _Harry_ just smiled at them ambiguously.

"Excellent." Dumbledore drew his Elder Wand once more. "While your first names are relatively common, it might be wise to change _Harry_ to Henry, and the Older Ginny to Jenny when mentioning her in reference. Perhaps the last names should likewise only be slightly changed, so that any slips of the tongue can be explained away."

"Parker for Potter and London for Lupin?" Hermione suggested, though it was in a decidedly cool tone of voice; she still wasn't pleased that a massive obliviation was about to take place.

"Perfect Miss. Granger, perfect. Now, I've always felt that simple disguises work best."

_Harry_ nodded in agreement with his mentor. "You don't have to tell me. All I need to do to walk around 'incognito' is cover up my scar and change my hair."

Dumbledore took _Harry_'s words to heart, and so with his mumbled spell _Harry_'s, James' and Al's hair became red and unruffled as the lightening bolt faded from the former's forehead. _Harry_ conjured three mirrors and James muttered a joke about the Weasley hair being contagious to Al.

_Harry_ ran a hand through his newly straight hair. "Right. We'll keep all the relationships the same; it would look odd for us to be arriving at the same time for any other reason. Also-" he hesitated before turning to his two youngest children. "Al, Lils, Slytherin is different in this time than in ours. No," their dad quickly cut off Al before he could protest, "I'm not being prejudice. The fact is that many future Death Eaters would be sleeping in or next to your dorms in Slytherin. If they found out who you are..." _Harry_ grimaced at the end of his statement.

Al looked down with a sigh, grudgingly accepting his dad's logic. "I guess it wouldn't be the same House anyway, not without any of my friends. So do you want us to join the Gryffindors?"

_Harry_ shook his head, relieved at his son's agreement. "Not necessarily the Gryffindors, any of the others would be fine. I'm sorry about this; I'd just worry about your safety in the dungeons."

Brother and sister exchanged a look before Al gave his dad a small smile of reassurance. "I'll choose Gryffindor–besides the Slytherins, you guys have the best dorms. Those windows are wicked to launch out of. A wronski feint from up there? Amazing."

"You've been in our Common Room?" Ron asked, though grinned at the Quidditch reference.

Al rolled his eyes as the melancholy mood was swept away. "It's not hard to get into. Even if Jamie wasn't a lion your House is only protected by a password. At least my dorm is booby-trapped."

Harry and Ron suddenly felt very glad that they had gotten no farther than the Slytherin's Common Room back in second year. Lily snorted when everyone's questioning looks turned her way. "My brothers are both going to be Lions; with Teddy teaching of course I'm going with them." She paused. "Even though Gryffindors go looking for danger and 'almost-fatal-but-not-quite' adventures."

James swept an arm over his little sister's shoulders. "Lils, you aren't even sorted yet. What if, when we finally get back, you _really_ become a big, bad Lion?" In response, his sister unsurprisingly stomped on his foot and began shouting insults at her 'stupid git of a brother'. Rather quickly, everyone silently agreed that when faced with two angrily cursing Potters close to hexing each other, it would be best to continue on and assume that the topic was closed.

"Professor Parker," the Potter kids, even the vexed Lily and James, repeated the new last name silently after Dumbledore's words, testing it out, "you said that you have no experience with teaching?"

_Harry_ gave a small start at being addressed in that way. "Only a bit. I've helped teach the Trainee and Junior Aurors for the past few years, and I occasionally give guest lectures at Hogwarts."

"He also started an illegal class his fifth year when Umbridge was teaching," Teddy spoke up proudly, "and even managed to teach his classmates Patronuses!"

Almost everyone stared at the flabbergasted younger Harry. _Harry_ groaned. "Do we have to reveal everything? Besides, that was Hermione's fault." Said bushy-haired prefect gave an indignant squeak.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way." _Harry_ said apologetically. "It's just that you talked me into teaching once you saw how useless Umbridge was. You made me think that the DA was going to be a small study group, but then sprung thirty students on me." The bushy-haired girl, while slightly regretful at _Harry_'s explanation, could still see how it would be a brilliant idea. She made a quick mental note to look into a possible study group.

"The DA?" Asked Professor Flitwick, giving the younger Harry an appraising look.

"Dumbledore's Army." Al replied, throwing a nervous grin at the Headmaster. "It was mum's idea. They wanted to make their group anti-Umbridge and anti-Ministry, and she remembered that the Minister feared the Headmaster. So why not make an unofficial private army for Hogwarts?"

Everyone was able to enjoy the rare sight of Dumbledore blushing a light pink. Professor Flitwick coughed lightly, looking highly amused at this entire situation. "Ah now, future student rebellions aside, I must ask: how did you come to get such an advanced time turner?"

The Headmaster was curious as well. "Filius, that is a very good question. Professor Parker?"

_Harry_ gave a start at the name, and decided it was a good thing to get the surprise out of his system before classes began. "That was mainly due to my job. Because so many people have tried to change the past by using time turners, time magic is closely regulated by both the Departments of Mysteries and of Magical Law Enforcement. Since I'm the Head Auror and close friends with the Head of Department..."

"You were entrusted with the time turner." Flitwick nodded.

"It made sense. Especially when I thought the prototype was safe, locked in my warded office." _Harry _finished, looking bluntly at his oldest son.

"I said I was sorry." Said James with a frown.

"While we are on the topic of questions, what was the golden hue that surrounded your hands and managed to stop my wand's spell?" Dumbledore looked at _Harry_ shrewdly.

_Harry_ fixed a puzzled look on his face. "A golden what? I have no idea."

Professor McGonnagal narrowed her eyes at her former student. "We all saw you use the magic."

"It must be an effect from the time turner." _Harry_ glanced down at his hands while faking a look of bewilderment. "How odd." If they hadn't seen contrary proof with their own eyes, the professors would have never believed that _Harry_ was lying. Indeed, they all knew how dreadful a poker face his younger self had. As it was though, the Head Professors all looked sharply at their new colleague.

"That isn't enough of an answer." Professor McGonnagal said dryly. "Thanks to Albus' vote of confidence, we believe that you are Harry Potter and mean no harm. However, I will not allow a person with an unknown and perhaps dangerous magic to teach our students!" James mumbled something about the standards being set low by past DADA teachers, but shut up once Al kicked him.

_Harry_ saw he was stuck in his fib. "I can't sneak out of this one, can I?" He gave a boyish grin to the professors, which failed to back them down from their stance. His smile faded.

"The magic isn't dangerous." _Harry_ sighed. "It was a, side effect, or a gift. Useful in the same way that accidental magic can come in handy, but not overly powerful. More of a reflex than anything else." Still, he couldn't believe he had so carelessly let the magic loose earlier. What had he been thinking? Wait–_Harry_'s breath caught as he remembered his theory from earlier–had he thought it? He didn't think so. It really _had_ been a reflex. But that hadn't happened in ages. Not since, since–he grew pale as his thoughts reached the only plausible conclusion. Oh, no no no. Not again, not now!

As _Harry_ internally panicked, everyone from the past only grew more inquisitive as his 'explanation' went on. Even the kids from the future were looking at their father and godfather curiously, having always wondered–but received no answer–about this quirk. Professor Dumbledore held up a hand to stop the whisperings. "While I believe you, I cannot recall ever having come across a reference to this type of power."

"It is-very rare." _Harry_ brought his thoughts back to the present while shaking off his shock.

Professor McGonnagal's brow merely furrowed. "Mr-fine, Albus-_Professor Parker_, are you going to give us any straight answers?"

"I," _Harry_ paused, trying to scrounge up a plausible explanation, "I'm not sure that'd be wise."

"Why not?" Professor McGonnagal's lips thinned and _Harry_ got an instant, unsettling flashback to the identical lip-thinning moments that would precede a week's worth of detentions.

"It was a combination of multiple things." _Harry_ turned to Dumbledore, lightly touching the Elder Wand to his currently invisible scar. The Headmaster's expression cleared slightly, but still glimmered with confusion.

"You are all part of the Order?" _Harry_ shifted his stance to look back to Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, who both nodded along with most of the other teachers. "I started to notice this extra magic once the prophecy was completed, so I assume it was one of the effects of what occurred during the Final Battle with Voldemort."

Only a few winced at Voldemort's name, but all were very much disappointed to not be able to hear the details of the end of the war. Professor Flitwick had no idea what _Harry_ was alluding to, but could understand the need to not tell crucial details about the future. However, a different, perhaps more pertinent question came to mind. "You mentioned other 'side-effects'?"

_Harry_ waved off the query, amazed that he was able to blatantly lie to some of the most powerful wizards and witches of the age. Yet he mostly focused on his unwelcome earlier revelation. "Nothing to worry about, and it definitely would not put any student in danger."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but let it rest for the time being. "I see. While I would heartily enjoy a more thorough explanation, the circumstances do seem remarkable. However, if anything goes amiss, we will address this more thoroughly."

The rest of the group didn't seem as ready to let the issue go as the Headmaster. But with _Harry_'s nod and a stern gaze from Dumbledore, the murmuring died down. McGonagall, the Golden Trio, and the younger time travellers still seemed less than pleased.

* * *

The future group was shortly thereafter ushered into the Entrance Hall. Over Hermione's persistent protests, the Headmaster did a massive obliviation spell over the still-frozen students and teachers.

Dumbledore, back at the Staff Table, coughed to gain the attention of the majority of the Great Hall, who looked up at him with bleary, confused expressions. "As I was saying, welcome all of you to another year at Hogwarts! Before all of you go back to your Common Rooms to sleep off another delicious feast, I do have one final announcement." The Headmaster flicked his wand, the Great Hall's door opened, and the future arrivals stepped through.

"I would like all of you to join me in welcoming our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Henry Parker, and Henry's godson Teddy London, who will be his Assistant Professor."

The two grinned at the crowd, and Teddy gave a slight wave as the still-befuddled students clapped.

"Also joining us this year," Dumbledore continued, "are Henry's children: James, Al, and Lily Parker. All three were privately sorted into Gryffindor. They have previously been home-schooled, and will be joining the fourth, third, and first years, respectively. I am excusing the fifth year Gryffindor prefects from their normal duties with the first years for tonight only, so that they can help the Parker children situate themselves with the castle."

The Golden Trio, realising the act, waved the three kids over. Neville helped make room by scrunching over as well, while still looking decidingly nervous about the entire situation and continued glancing between Harry, Ginny, and the new arrivals in astonishment.

* * *

***** 'Aunt Angie' popularised quite a few nicknames for her brother-in-law, much to his displeasure. If you're interested in reading more (or want to see baby!James, kid!Teddy, Luna Scamander, or Harry's and George's pact over their firstborn sons' names) head to my oneshot 'Babysitting Debacles' ( s/7656885/1/Babysitting_Debacles). Blatant self-advertising, me? Perish the thought.

**A/N:** I love blackmail!Harry. Like, I adore him. Seriously. Book after book I waited for the 'Golden Boy' to embrace his snarkily cunning side, but nooo. Rowling just had to keep him a reckless, oblivious Gryffindor! Mmph. So much potential wasted, and don't get me started on the lack of parseltongue as a plot device. Or how Harry was hilarious during the first few chapters of _Philosopher's Stone_ but lost his wonderfully sarcastic side after being Sorted.

THANK YOU to my amazing reviewers! I PM everyone with a response, but if I accidentally missed you I'm REALLY REALLY sorry. But here, take a hug and cookie! I even have some red vines to share :D

Also, oh god, I'm sorry about the 'feast-that-never-ends'. If it helps at all I'm the most frustrated by this slow pace. You would not believe how many scenes of humiliating pranks, scandalous drama, mushy romance and 'wizard-lightening-battles' I have written. But nooo, apparently my plot has to make sense. All of you would prefer to read about the characters being tortured via gender bending and love potions, right? Of course so.

Just to be clear: this will NOT be a super!Harry fic. But like being the Master of Death wouldn't have some (angstyly negative) side-effects.


	7. BodyBinding and Bellowing

**General Disclaimer:** If time turners and felix felicis were commonplace, I wonder how big of a crowd would have tackled J.K. Rowling (who isn't me, btw) on the delayed train from Manchester to London that day in 1990. Merlin's pants, I can't get this scene out of my head:

Joanne Rowling looked out at the scenery of grazing cows, head tilted to the side, a storm of thoughts on magic and witchcraft filling her mind. Hmm, this could be interesting, but—

"Oh my GOD-" Her scream was cut off as the sudden, manic crowd descended.

"GRAB HER!"

"I LOVE YOU!"

"WHAT DID YOU IMAGINE?!" The frantic people shrieked into the blonde's bursting ears.

"Wha-" Joanne's bewildered question was muffled from the dozens of bodies' bear hugs and 'gentle' body slams.  
"HORCRUXES? HALLOWS? JESUS FIGURES–great irony there, by the way. Stick it to those religious crazies! Yeah wizardry!"

A woman sprawled over Joanne's lap scoffed. "Chauvinistic pig. GO WITCHCRAFT!"

"GO HOGWARTS!"

"YEAH YEAH GRYFFINDOR!" A burly man with red and gold face paint screamed, pounding his chest.

The same woman sneered at him, holding Joanne's sleeve in a death grip. "You overrated heroes-GO SLYTHERIN!"

"I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES!"

"RA–VEN–CLAW! RA–VEN–CLAW!" Two teenagers dressed in Hogwarts uniforms screamed back and forth, discreetly steeling candy from the vendor as she and the passengers stared shocked as the people with broomsticks and markered lightening bolt scars covered the flabbergasted blonde.

* * *

With almost everyone's heads still adjusting from the massive memory charm, the sixth year Gryffindor prefects ushered the likewise confused first years out of the Great Hall. _Harry_ hurriedly whispered to his kids ("Stick to your truthful backgrounds and vague non-answers as much as possible. Do not call any student mum, dad, aunt, or uncle in public. Finally please, please dear Merlin, behave for once and don't call attention to yourselves! Oh, who am I kidding?") and went with Teddy and Dumbledore to the latter's office. Fred and George reluctantly ran off with a bewildered Lee Jordan, while Neville, eager to get away from the insanity, followed the Weasley Twins back to the dorms. It was uncertain where Luna wandered off to, though she did mention to Ginny something about the third floor corridor and lingering wrackspurts.

Thus, trailing behind the rest of the school, it was a motley crew who trekked upstairs to Gryffindor Tower. As soon as they entered the almost deserted Entrance Hall, James cast a _muffliato_ around the group (ignoring his future Aunt's curious questions). Al and Lily started eagerly exclaiming over each passing thing that was new–err, old. Hermione half-heartedly acted as tour guide to Lily, but this stopped once the younger girl pointed out a secret passage behind the portrait of a sneering Morgana. A shortcut which, the Trio were displeased to discover, they had not known about.

The Weasley siblings, Harry, and James were caught up in an impromptu staring match. James was trying not to smile, for his 'not-really-parents' still appeared rattled by the stunning evening.

"Mum?" Ginny jumped as Lily glanced back at her with a tilted head. "Why are you three looking at James like that? It's like when you were trying to figure out who did the Halloween phoenix prank."

"Halloween phoenix prank?" Harry asked nervously, looking at the future children for clarification.

James waved off the question. "Just some extreme trick-or-treating that Fred–err, the second–and I did one year. Fawkes gave us the cold shoulder for ages after that."

"Fawkes? Fred the second?" Ginny had a feeling that she was soon going to get very tired of asking endless queries.

"Fawkes is a phoenix, and Fred's our cousin." Al answered, tearing his eyes away from a statue with two heads and only stumps for arms. "He and James are inseparable. _He_ being Fred, not Fawkes."

James rolled his eyes but didn't dispute this. "Al, you, Rose and Scorpius are even worse."

"Rose and Scorpius?" Ron felt a headache coming on.

"Your daughter," said James happily, jumping over a trick step, "and Scorpius Malfoy. They became friends after they met in Slytherin. That is, after they stopped attacking each other." Harry and Ron stopped dead in their tracks.

"A Malfoy?" Harry asked, momentarily snapping out of his nervousness as he stared at Al. "Tell me he's not Draco Malfoy's son."

Ron couldn't form any coherent words at all, and intermittently spluttered out: "Da-daughter? Wha–SLYTHERIN?"

Al shrugged, having decided that making a fuss about every future detail was just going to drive him barmy. "Draco Malfoy is Scorp's dad, but he's not much like him. As for Rose, everyone disagrees about which of us is the 'bad example' rubbing off on the other."

Ron continued to splutter, and Hermione found herself feeling sorry for this Rose and whichever poor woman had been crazy enough to marry her red-haired friend.

The walk to Gryffindor Tower continued, and the different generations finally began light conversations with one another–centering around Quidditch, naturally. Hermione was slightly put out, having wanted to discuss the intricacies of time, but James was thrilled to have the opportunity to wax poetic about his Lightening Bolt. He only crashed to earth when reminded by a smirking Al that his prized broom was with the rest of his possessions twenty-four years in the future.

"You mentioned having cousins, do they play Quidditch too?" Ginny asked during a lull.

The future Potters couldn't help but laugh before James spoke up. "Me and five other Weasley are on the Gryffindor team. Adelaide Wood's the seventh player and is practically family anyway."

"I'm seeker and Rose plays chaser for the Slytherin team. Lily will definitely make it next year." Al said as Harry, Ron and Ginny listened with particular interest.

"That's not even mentioning the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams," Lily piped in, "and Hugo will also probably play for whichever House he gets in."

"Hugo?" Hermione asked.

James smirked at the irony. "Rose's little brother." Ron started panicking again. "He's eleven like Lily."

"Victoire's also going pro." Al added.

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Victoire. Isn't she the one dating Teddy?"

James made a face. "Yeah, they're always snogging. Almost as bad as mum and dad." Al hit James, Harry and Ginny blushed, and Ron glared at his so-called best mate.

"You should stop calling them that. Besides, it's only 1995," Al hissed at his brother, "they aren't even dating yet!"

"Po-tay-toes, po-tah-toes." James shrugged, unconcerned.

Yet as the future kids continued laughing about one thing or another, James found himself distracted by the Golden Trio as they climbed steadily higher towards Gryffindor Tower. Ron, looking angrily into space, had not yet noticed that Hermione was staring at an increasingly fidgety Harry.

Hermione, noticing James' curious expression with a start, realised that the oldest Potter child–Merlin, it was odd to think that way–was far more perceptive than he let on. She tried giving him a reassuring look, but he continued gazing from her to Harry and back in confusion.

Harry looked a moment away from dashing down the nearest staircase, and as they got closer to the Common Room his jumpiness only increased. Ginny, catching onto the cause of the growing silence, spontaneously assumed an enlightened and puzzled expression.

"Hermione," she asked into a silence only broken by Al's and Lily's whispers, "is this about when you and Ron were cursing and going mad in the Great Hall?"

This startled Ron out of his grumbling and, noticing that a paling Harry was about to flee, put two and two together.

"_Petrificus totalus_!" The surprised boy-who-lived stiffened and fell sideways to the ground at Ron's point-blank spell. Hermione groaned and slapped the redhead, who still had his wand extended.

"That was _not_ how we were planning on doing this!" She cried as the future kids looked at the Trio with excited alarm.

"Hermione!" Ron rubbed his arm. "Merlin, that hurt. We planned something?"

His best female friend grew red. "We were going to be calm, cool, and certainly not hex him! Oh Harry, I'm so sorry." She turned back to Ron furiously. "Do you really want to see how hard I can hit?"

Ron hastily backed away from the angry witch, knowing she could easily curse him with far worse things than a body-bind. Harry silently glared at both of his 'best friends' from his prone position on the floor. Ron flashbacked to his mate's screaming spree over the summer, and suddenly grew much more anxious about releasing the spell.

"This place has gone bloody mad." Ron muttered, levitating a frozen Harry up into the air. "Come on Hermione, don't be like that. It isn't like we could have gotten him into the tower voluntarily. He was about to race off!"

The Potter kids stared fascinated at the scene. "Did dad just get cursed?" Lily asked in a whisper. "By Uncle Ron?" She finished in hushed disbelief.

Al nodded mutely. James cracked a smile. "Dad is going to be so pissed off. Think he'll rival mum's screams at her angriest?"

Lily shook her head. "Mum reserves those for you Jamie–so no, dad won't be _that_ loud."

"Might wake up the tower though." Al mumbled, noticing that the floating Harry had turned his glaring eyes towards 'his' gossiping kids.

* * *

It was thus an even more interesting group that stood facing the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione told the gawking Fat Lady the password, and helped Ron get inside without making Harry collide with the portrait. The others hurriedly climbed in after the three. A few chuckles and outright giggles had to be bitten back as they noticed the stares the floating, frozen Harry was getting from his house mates.

Neville, his astonished gaze never leaving the glaring boy-who-lived, walked up to the group. "Did something happ-"

"Is anyone in our dorm?" Ron said quickly, carefully avoiding glancing at his furious best friend.

"Dean and Seamus. But why-"

"Thanks Neville." Hermione gave a weak grin. "We have to use the room for a bit. I'm sorry, but do you mind staying here for an hour or so? We'll send the other two down."

Neville nodded and headed back to the couch, having decided that he had no desire whatsoever to know about the newest secret his friends had uncovered in the past ten minutes. Anyway, he wasn't sure, but he was pretty certain this entire evening was a dream. Not that he relished the idea that Harry and Ron had taken up pranking, but these last few hours were something that only Luna would be able to dream up. Oh Merlin, what if this was _Luna_'s prank instead? Neville sat down gingerly, looking around for any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks lurking in the corners.

"What do we need the dorm for?" Ginny continued as Neville departed.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other and had a violent yet silent conversation, complete with hand gestures. Ron quickly stopped waving his arms once he remembered his levitation spell was still going. Once Harry stopped spinning in mid-air, his glare became much more homicidal. It was perhaps lucky that Ron didn't notice this.

"_We_ need the dorm." Ron said roughly. "Me, Harry, and Hermione."

"Harry, Hermione, and I." Hermione corrected automatically.

"That's what I said." The redhead looked at the brunette witch in bewilderment, but jotted it down to female lunacy. He turned back to the rest of the group. "Just the three of us. Sorry, but you lot have to stay here."

"What!" Ginny's said furiously. "You three are always keeping..." Ron and a levitated Harry rushed away, "...secrets." She finished weakly.

"Sorry Ginny." Hermione apologised before running after her best friends.

"Why do they always do this!" Ginny growled, barely noticing the four older students joining their group by the portrait. "They're always hiding some mystery, some bloody secret."

Fred sniggered, throwing his arms around Lee and Angelina–both still looking slightly sleepy from the obliviation. "What did you expect?"

"After all," George pulled his sister into a half-hug, but she pushed him off her shoulder. "they aren't the 'Golden Trio' for nothing. Harry always has something up his sleeve."

"Speaking of secrets," Fred gave the future kids a wide grin, "we have some introductions to make, brother of mine."

"Right you are." George said happily. "Hello new, mysterious transfer Gryffindors–"

"-I'm Fred! I'm George!" They said together, making no indication of who was whom.

James tilted his head to the side and squinted.

"Are you two related?"

The Twins looked startled for a moment, but then broke into wide, identical grins.

"James my boy-" George began pompously.

"-I think this is the start of a marvellous partnership." Fred finished as all three grinned twisted smiles.

The other Potters groaned as the Weasley Twins and oldest Potter child raced over to a table, which was quickly vacated by a group of panicking second years. Lee and Angelina looked even more confused than before, while everyone else in the Common Room had heard enough to give the plotting pranksters a wide berth.

* * *

With James off to do who even knows what with the twins, his siblings trambled over to the fireplace and took some places by a few seemingly terrified firsties. The latter quickly vacated the area. Al cast a swift _muffliato_ around their chairs. His sister just plomped onto, and sunk into the cushions.

Lily realised something in that delightful moment, which managed to cast a ray of sunshine through her otherwise tumultuous evening. She would never admit it, and would set a herd of Hippogriffs on anyone who dared say otherwise, but in that split-second she fell in love with the Gryffindor Common Room. Well, not the room itself: the comfy, cozy armchair right next to the fire, which was so very easy to sink into and drift away-

"Lils, are you even listening to me?" Al said in frustration, threading his fingers through his newly red hair.

"Hmm." Lily kept her eyes closed and leaned back against the crimson fabric. "Be quiet, I'm relaxing."

"But we should talk about-"

"That's the problem," the other redhead said dreamily, "I'm not going to talk. I'm not going to think about how Jamie is a complete moron, how we're back twenty years in time, how disturbing it is that you and young dad could be twins, how 'real dad' and Teddy must be freaking out, how mum must be going mental back home, and how young dad and young mum are likely catatonic by now. Oh, and I'm in denial about wearing crimson and gold: and it's going to stay that way or curses will go flying."

Al paused for a moment, thinking about her points.

"But you _are_ talking to me."

Lily humphed sourly. "You know what I meant. Go bug young dad."

There were a few loud thumps and undecernible screamed spells from the boy's dormitory. The Gryffindors looked up nervously, but no one ventured towards the steps as the curses continued.

"I think he's being crucified by Aunt Hermione." Al spoke warily, wondering what in Merlin's name was happening.

"Then talk to mum."

Al spotted Ginny racing towards the stairs. "She's heading up to the dorm too. I guess she's either going to save dad or help murder him. Do you know what's going on?"

"Don't know, don't care." Lily put her hands over her eyes with a groan, trying to return to her happy place.

"You're a Potter." Her brother said drily, tearing his gaze away from the suddenly suspiciously silent staircase. "You're burning with curiosity."

"Oh, stereotype much?" Lily looked at him through slitted eyes. "Mister 'Slytherins-are-terribly-mistreated-and-of-course- we-aren't-recruiting-the Hufflepuffs-into-a-private-army'?"

Al huffed out a breath of air. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"About the secret army, yes, you are. But the curiosity? I never said that. Though you _are_ stereotyping."

* * *

Dean and Seamus were talking in the dorm, and didn't bother shifting around when they heard the door slam open. Hermione entered the room slowly to avoid the open bags, flung clothes, and scattered posters. Ron had no such qualms, and took extra care to accidentally step on a picture of the West Ham football team.

"So, what should we do?" Ron muttered to Hermione, eyeing Harry warily as he floated him through the doorway.

"Ron? Hey mate, how was your sum-" Dean turned around and gaped at the Trio. "What's going on?"

Seamus followed Dean's lead, before jumping to his feet. "Yes! Good to know you're with me Ron. Wait, Hermione, why are you up here?"

But Ron just looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Cursing that prat!" The Irishman pointed at the body-binded and floating Harry. "Because of his lies, me mam didn't want me to come back."

Hermione looked momentarily puzzled at Seamus' anger and Dean's suddenly appeasing expression, before it all clicked, and she gripped her wand angrily. "You believe the Daily Prophet over your friend?" She glared, and the boy stopped in his tracks. "Don't you _dare _say a single word against Harry!"

"But, but," Seamus glanced from the floating Harry to the two peeved prefects, all of whom seemed to be a moment from tossing him into the Forbidden Forest, "but didn't you curse him?"

"Yeah, because he's too stubborn for his own good." Ron shook his head and glanced up at Harry. "You really should work on that, mate."

Hermione had her wand pointed at Seamus and Dean, practically daring them to try something. "We need the dorm. Neville is still in the Common Room, so you can spend the evening catching up." Seamus, still very much wanting to attack Harry, left the room only thanks to both Hermione's steely threat and Dean's incessant tugging. The latter finally managed to drag Seamus from the dorm, only pausing before shutting the door to send a swift, apologetic look the Trio's way.

Silence settled about the room as Ron and Hermione looked at each other uncertainly, not quite daring to glance up at Harry.

"This really wasn't a good idea, was it." Ron asked nervously, and instantly knew that Hermione thought his statement was remarkably idiotic. "I know, it's my fault. But–" He fingered his wand and glanced at the silently raging Harry, "–now I know how he felt before facing that Hungarian Horntail." This last comment did not improve Harry's mood at all, and it was with great apprehension that Ron backed away for safety and did the counter-spell at last.

"You GIT!" Harry roared as he landed hard on his knees, winced, but pulled out his wand furiously. He stood to face a frantic Ron. "As if everything else wasn't enough, YOU CURSED ME?"

"Mate-" Ron waringly spoke to an apoplectic Harry, "-bloody hell, you can be scary."

"SCARY?" The redhead had to dive around Seamus' bed to avoid a few ramming stunners. "I'LL SHOW YOU SCARY!"

Hermione, as usually happened during these situations, wondered why her best friends were two rampaging boys: one of whom had never heard of common sense, tact or manners, and the other who had serious temper issues and fought homicidal maniacs in his spare time.

Although, watching this one-sided duel, Hermione was gaining a new appreciation of why You Know Who couldn't kill Harry. 'Scary' did not even begin to cover it–Harry was shooting a cascade of spells, thoroughly demolishing the bed Ron had crawled beneath.

"FURNUNCULUS! CONFRINGO! EXPULSO!"

"Damn, damn, damn. Uh, PROTEGO! EXPELLIARMUS! Wait, no, that never works against-OWW! BLOODY HELL HARRY, STOP!"

Hermione was thankful she hadn't been the one stupid enough to cast the body-bind curse. That it even worked was nothing short of a miracle. Who would, after all, cast a jinx at someone who had gone up against a basilisk, dragons and Death Eaters? She shook her head, walking towards the boys as the curses began to thin. Admittedly, Ron's method did work, and Harry was now stuck in here with them–mainly because she had put an impenetrable charm on the door and window while the latter was 'distracted' by destroying a corner of the dorm room.

"EVANESCO!" The last remainder of bed sheets and crumbled wooden poles vanished, leaving a crouched, horrified Ron as his best friend advanced.

"Harry!"

"SERPENSORTIA! WHAT?" Harry turned to Hermione, wand still pointed as a large black snake tumbled out of its end. She paused and her scream of annoyance dwindled as she saw the serpent and her friend's face still twisted in anger, looking somehow different than normal.

"WHAT!" The boy-who-lived yelled with even more impatience, glancing at Ron–who held his raised hands in a pacifying manner–with narrowed eyes.

"Be quiet, stop firing spells," Hermione said as Ron let out a groan of relief, "and sit down now!"

Harry looked at her incredulously, clearly wishing to continue. Ron just rubbed a bump on his head, muttering, "The exploding curse? Really?", while edging away from the snake lazily sweeping the floor.

Hermione also eyed the reptile nervously. "Harry, get rid of that snake before it bites Ron." He huffed, but said a few phrases in a hoarse hiss which caused the snake to curl over into a corner.

"You couldn't just vanish it?!" Ron eyed his friend incredulously, but immediately stopped when Harry swung his wand back his direction. It seemed quite likely that all hell was about to break loose–again–when a quiet knock on the door preceded Ginny warily peeking out from around it.

"You three are being louder than the Twins–who've recruited James, by the way." Ginny looked around the partly demolished dorm in shock. "More destructive as well, I guess. What happened?"

Ron just pointed to Harry, as though that was all the answer that Ginny needed. Surprisingly enough, it was.

"Another tantrum?" Ginny stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

"Tantrum?" Ron said disbelievingly, still crouched in a corner. "He acted like I was a Death Eater! Shot everything at me except the Unforgivables; even conjured a snake!" Ginny shivered at her brother's last word, and Harry, noticing this, finally vanished the reptile in the corner with a flick of his wand.

"The git shot a curse at my back." Harry crossed his arms over his chest, transforming from the raging boy-who-lived to a petulant child in front of Ginny's eyes.

"So you destroyed half the dorm?"

"It wasn't only that, though." Hermione spoke up softly yet firmly. "Harry, stop avoiding this discussion. We are not going to forget about it, even if you blow up the entire tower."

"Don't give him any ideas!" Ron sat up with a wince. "I just got used as bloody target practice. I am not going through that again–we're going to finish this now."

Harry, while still angry, felt this emotion being swiftly replaced with panic. Meanwhile, Ginny was still observing the three of them in confusion. "What's going on?"

Hermione looked at the younger girl apologetically. "I'm sorry, but you really can't be here-"

"I already know about the time travellers, and heard Older Harry's little speech about your years at Hogwarts." Ginny huffed, copying Harry and crossing her arms over her chest. "What other important secrets could you possibly have?"

"Do you want a list?" Ron asked with a snort. "Look, Ginny, this is none of your business."

Ginny began to turn red. "Funny, you think that Harry's temper is bad? Have you forgotten about mine?"

"Ginny-" Harry started, his voice finally returning to a normal decibel.

"What was the cupboard thing earlier, and about your relatives?" Ginny turned to face a paling Harry. "What? What's so bad about a cupboard?"

Ron edged closer to his best friend and, seeing that he wasn't going to get cursed, calmed significantly. "That's a good place to start. Ginny, bugger off. Harry, what's with the cupboard?"

Harry muttered something incomprehensible to all but Ginny, who was nearest. She blinked, processing the words, before spinning rapidly so that their noses nearly touched. In surprise, Harry stumbled back a step.

"Did I hear you correctly?" She asked, a hint of warning lying in wake beneath her question. While Harry was tempted to respond with a glib comment, one look at Ginny's face and he knew that wouldn't be a wise move. "Your _bedroom_?"

"What?" Ron looked torn between confusion and fury. "But in second year-"

"They let me have that bedroom after I got accepted into Hogwarts." Harry answered, wishing he could be cursing someone again. "The Dursleys were probably afraid of what I could do with magic."

"Wait," Hermione, if anything, looked more furious than both Weasleys combined, "you slept in a _cupboard_?"

Harry just nodded, stepping back another few few paces from his raving friends.

* * *

**A/N:** Totally overkill? Duh. But I think I'm falling in love (...falling in love, falling in love...) with CAPITAL!Harry. He's just so darn cute when he's cursing everything in sight. OOC, but not incredibly so when you're combining a moody 5th year Harry with a certain scar horcrux.


	8. Paradoxes and Pathways

**A/N: Hey ya'll, I'm back at uni! And I'm over the 14-hour flight and jet lag in record time! Whoo!**

**On to what you guys care about: this chapter will be introducing two new characters. They aren't OCs (I tend to avoid those) but their personalities were never explored in canon. I hope I didn't go too overboard, but I reallyreallyreally wanted to go against the clichés on these two. Let me know if I missed the mark! And please tell me if the timey-wimey stuff is too confusing.**

**General Disclaimer: Dudes, I'm American. A-mer-i-can. I can't write Britishisms properly and curse far too frequently by using a ridiculous amount of 'Merlin's' and 'bloody's'. Just from my slang alone, it should be clear that I'm not Rowling. Plus, I don't describe characters by comparing them to various animals, so that's another dead give-away.**

* * *

_And the room and world were already disappearing, flickering out of reality as the sand, desperate golden flings of magic, broken picture frames, and the echoes of Snuffles' barks surrounded the four wizards and witch fighting to escape. All but blinded, Al rapidly blinked and got a last flash of his mum, standing awe-struck in the doorway, staring in horrified silence as her family faded into the swirling cloud of sand. (From Ch.1: Snuffles and Secrets)_

* * *

Two weeks had passed since _the incident_, and nothing much had changed. Ginny Potter was only managing to write articles half-heartedly at best, and spent the days alternating between fury and hyperventilation. She had practically set up shop outside the Department of Mysteries, much to the Unspeakables' annoyance and her families' worry. Her mum kept sending her liberal supplies of comfort food and dessert, and with most of the kids back at Hogwarts the other Weasleys took turns forcing Ginny out of the Ministry and back into the world. In particular, Ron and Hermione spent as much time as they could dragging the protesting redhead to Potter Manor, the Burrow, or to their own house. But with the Auror Office in an uproar over Harry Potter's disappearance, and the Unspeakables working furiously to find some solution to the time quarry, neither of them had much time to spare.

Yet this particular Sunday all three of them were gathered in the Potter's living room, and Ginny certainly felt like she had been frozen for half a month. For there didn't seem to have been any progress, and she was so damned sick of sitting on her hands. She was tired of being in a daze, and all she wanted to do was cuddle up to her husband and chuckle at the kids' latest pranks.

But none of them were here, and the house these days was vastly empty and blaringly silent. Was it any wonder that Ginny tried to avoid it? Christ, she would have done anything for some of this quiet over the years. But now it was like a memorial with time standing still. For there was no movement, no husband with a loving glint in his eye, no Teddy with his infectious grin, no Jamie with singed hair, no Al with a witty remark, and no Lily plotting something at every turn. Ginny shook her head, determined not to start crying. Again. Merlin, she had been doing that more in the past few weeks than she had during the Second War! What had gotten into her?

She thought about asking Hermione, but the latter was busy bickering with Ron. Besides, if she did say something right now, her brother would likely make a comment about hormones, which would get Hermione even more peeved at him.

"Why do they have to come here?" Ron whined, and Ginny actually managed to chuckle at the fact that her brother had never grown up.

"Her family isn't coming here," Hermione explained to her husband yet again, "_she_ is. And she'll be with Audrey."

"Which is better," Ron reluctantly admitted, "but why can't another Unspeakable come?"

His wife gritted her teeth. "Haven't you been paying any attention? They are both in charge of this project. Not to mention they're my friends!"

"Oh come on." Ron scoffed, missing the obvious danger signs sent his way. Ginny felt another urge to giggle, although this might have been hysteria instead. "Audrey's great, who doesn't love her. Still don't know how Percy convinced her to marry him. But you trust Malfoy?"

Hermione stormily stared at her husband. "Yes I do! Ronald Bilius Weasley, just because you can't let go of schoolboy grudges doesn't mean the rest of us haven't moved on! Harry and Ginny don't care, and the kids certainly don't, but you still insist on setting a horrid example!"

Ron, finally getting the clue, hurriedly backed away from his annoyed wife. Yet with a true reckless Gryffindor spirit, he continued to argue. "I understand being civil, and sure, Scorpius isn't that bad, but it's _them_!"

Hermione huffed and got up from her seat as the doorbell rang. "Stop repeating yourself. And I swear Ron, if you say anything nasty to her, time travel and out-of-control aurors will be the least of your worries."

As Ron blustered that of course he wouldn't say anything rude, Ginny watched the doorway anxiously. After a minute, Hermione re-entered the living room with two witches and various floating boxes.

Astoria Malfoy, née Greengrass, was quite an anomaly. Ginny had for years regarded her as an epitomical ice queen. Indeed, she always pictured the Malfoy as having steely blue eyes and platinum blonde locks, even while the woman in question actually had rather plain brown eyes and matching hair. This view had changed a few years ago, once Hermione, having begun working more closely with the Unspeakables, insisted that Ginny meet Audrey's research partner because the two were sure to hit it off.

Ginny had immediately hexed the Hermione 'impostor' with a _stupefy_.

One interrogation and trip to St. Mungo's later, the highly vexed brunette dragged the apologetic redhead to the Ministry, dumped her next to Astoria's workstation, and glared at both of them for good measure. Blinking in surprise, Astoria had gasped as she recognised Ginny. The latter was just getting ready to draw her wand when the ice queen-

-squealed in glee.

"_Ginny Potter_? I can't believe it's you! And that I'm meeting you!" Excitement gushed through Astoria's voice as her hands rose in emphasis. "Our husbands work together of course but, oh! I'm such a fan. I loved your critique of that git McLaggen! Pfft, I don't know what the Tornadoes were thinking. That man's keeping has been on a downward spiral ever since he joined the League-"

After Ginny overcame her world-shifting shock, the two Quidditch enthusiasts happily debated the wind speed on the new lightening bolt, and the delusional Chudley Cannons supporters for the next hour. Hermione, smirking in the corner, left the room after five minutes without either of the women noticing.

Another result of this little incident was that Hermione began telling anyone and everyone that the Potters were both mental, psychotically paranoid, and very much made for each other.

"Tori, I know you remember Ginny." Hermione helped Astoria and another woman with brown hair and glasses bring a few boxes into the living room. "And this is my husband Ron."

"A pleasure." Tori smiled sympathetically, balancing a load of ancient books in her arms. "Ginny, I was so sorry to hear about what happened-"

"GINNY!" The third woman ran up and gave her redheaded sister-in-law a hug, accidentally hitting her back with a clipboard. "Opps, sorry about that! But how are you? I haven't given you an update in a few days, and I know I would be frantic if it was Percy and the kids, but Harry and Teddy are amazing and I just know they're making sure everyone is safe! 1995 isn't bad at all, it could have been far worse. But see, Tori and I think we have a solution and-you look like you need sugar. Lots of sugar, something sweet. I'll bake you cookies! You like oatmeal, right? Cookies solve everything, and can I use your kitchen?"

"Audrey!" Ginny quickly stepped in at a pause in the rapidly-spoken speech. "Thanks, but I don't need cookies. Tell me the solution!"

Audrey bit the end of her quill as she looked down at the clipboard. Her small glasses were crooked. They were probably meant to be that way, for she was one of those odd people who simultaneously appeared completely ordinary, but fundamentally offbeat. Her wavy brunette hair and warm brown eyes were straightforward enough, but combined with her pixie-like face and wind-swept appearance, she always looked like she had just gotten off of a broom. She did actually like to fly–almost a prerequisite to joining the Weasley family–but one was far more likely to find her buried in a book, excitedly narrating play-by-play literary analysis to her bemused husband Percy. She was a lovely mother, friend, and Unspeakable, but this muggleborn did tend to get a bit obsessive. To any casual observer, it would seem as though she was on a permanent sugar high.

Tori's and Audrey's personalities thus meshed quite well, and they made excellent partners whenever they managed to stop speaking over the other. They were so good, in fact, that they had been given the lead for their Department's ongoing experiments with time magic. Though, many of the higher ups were now banging their heads for not realising the inherent chaos that came from mixing the Malfoy, Weasley, and Potter (by extension) families together.

"It's not an entire solution, but we might have figured out a way to trace them." Tori said hesitantly. "It's usually not a big problem, because we always take down someone's magical signature right before they experiment with the time turner."

"But Harry's signature was recorded!" Ginny said quickly.

"Magical signatures change over time." Audrey tried to explain while simultaneously calming her sister-in-law. "That first one is just used as a baseline, it's not meant to be able to sustain a full trace."

"Not to mention we don't have the other four magical signatures recorded-"

"SHH!" Audrey hushed Tori, who stopped guiltily, before turning to Ginny. "Don't listen to her, that doesn't matter. What does matter is that we might know how to get a hold on Harry's magic. It helps a great deal that we know exactly when and where they went back."

"It would be best if the final calculations are done in the last place the time turner was used." Tori continued. "Which was why we brought all this equipment in here. Your living room holds the most concentration of that last burst of magic, and from that we might be able to lock onto the time turner's path."

"Then you'll bring them back?" Ginny said hopefully, springing up from her seat, feeling more alive than she had in two weeks. But Astoria and Audrey just looked at each other, and the redhead felt her heart sink.

"It's, it's more complicated than that." Audrey said, for once picking her words carefully. "_If_ we get a trace on Harry's magic, then we'll be able to pinpoint exactly when and where the time turner sent them."

Tori picked up the explanation. "If that works, we'll send someone back to meet up with your family. The time turners are clearly too experimental still, but we'd be able to make a potion with the hourglass' sand that you retrieved from the accident."

Audrey nodded. "Good work on that, by the way. We almost have all of the broken time turner, which makes everything much easier. Anyway, once an agent is sent back they'll have to open a pathway on _that_ side, which will connect to the present time magic. Got that?"

"Yes. Wait, no. Kind of. No, not really." Ginny's head was swimming. "What pathway?"

"Audrey, stop skipping over the basics!" Tori shook her head at her partner before addressing the others. "Think of a pathway as a connection across a particular timeline. It can basically link two distinct points in the past and future together-"

"Though the really amazing bit of this," Audrey interrupted excitedly, "is that it doesn't have to be the _same_ past and future! Isn't that incredible? So unbelievable!"

"What?" Ron and Ginny asked together, their faces mirroring identical looks of confusion.

Tori sighed. "Ignore her, it's just theoretical and has nothing to do with the point-"

"It could!" Audrey insisted. "It's not theoretical-"

"Stop interrupting me!" Tori exclaimed. "This is just a tangent."

"But it's interesting, and it might be relevant." Audrey continued persistently.

"It might be." Tori grudgingly allowed. "Still, the theory is so off the wall-"

Ron rubbed his head, and Ginny knew he was also getting a headache. "Could you explain what in Merlin's name you're going on about?"

Tori bounded ahead before Audrey got a chance to open her mouth. "The pathway can connect two points of time together. So say, if it's midnight on Halloween in 1997, and you had the exact co-ordinates for 2 am on the 27th of December, 2020, then you could take the time potion to get you from that exact minute and second of one date, to the other. Unfortunately, the potion is very sensitive, takes awhile to prepare, and can't be taken back or forward in time. So it only works one way and for one person. You'd need a portal for a crowd, or for a return trip."

"This idea came from the muggle science fiction phenomenon of wormholes, but that doesn't matter." Audrey spoke with enthusiasm. "The portal would be like the Veil Archway, except that this would lead to the future rather than to death. The interesting and so-called theoretical part of this is that the portal might be able to connect two _different_ pasts and futures. For example, if someone went back to 1939 and killed Adolf Hitler or Gellert Grindelwald, the past and future would be altered so fundamentally that the time traveller might not even be born. It's the grandfather paradox."

"The paradox being," Hermione explained at noticing Ron's and Ginny's confused expressions, "that if a time traveller went to the past and killed his own grandfather before the latter had met his grandmother, he would never have been born. But if he was never born, he wouldn't have been able to travel back in time to kill his grandfather, so he would, in fact, have been born."

Audrey nodded her head. "Exactly. The only possible solution to this paradox is the creation of alternate time lines. For example, Future A would be where the time traveller went back and killed his grandfather. This action would then create a Future B–a divergence from Future A–where the time traveller was never born because his grandfather had died. But he would still exist in Future B, because he had been born and travelled back from Future A, and was then stuck in that alternate future. See? Simple."

"Alternate futures?" Ginny said faintly, recalling Hermione mentioning this awhile ago.

"What Audrey is trying to explain," Tori spoke up once more, "is that if the past is changed in a way which obliviation can't fix, then another future will sprout up and the time traveller will be stuck going forward in that alternative future."

"But this time potion works around all of that!" Audrey said happily.

"Well, it might."

"Oh Tori, don't be so pessimistic." Audrey adjusted her glasses and wrote something down on her clipboard. "Since the potion fixes on two specific points in time, it should be entirely possible to set it to transport someone from Past A to Future A, even if the past has been altered to create a Future B."

"Yes, it is possible." Tori reluctantly agreed, before turning to Ginny. "But we aren't positive it will work. Actually, hopefully it won't be needed at all if the past hasn't been changed. Time is very flexible, and obliviations will be able to fix any but the wildest deviations to the past–like someone dying before their time, or other things this extreme."

Ginny started laughing, a tinge hysterically, and the others looked at her worriedly. It took a few moments, but she finally managed to get a hold of herself.

"So-sorry." Ginny gasped out, a few last hiccoughs escaping. "But have you met my husband? _Everything_ happens to Harry. And even while he and Teddy know not to change anything–even though they'll both likely try to save everyone–my kids are also there. Al and Lils have probably destroyed Hogwarts, and I wouldn't be surprised if Jamie was trying to prank Voldemort! Throw in the Hallows and Horcruxes..." She sank down onto the sofa, the hysteria leaving her so numb that she didn't feel her brother patting her back reassuringly.

"This potion will work." Audrey repeated firmly. "Ginny, this was why I mentioned it. Even if the past was changed, they'll be able to get back to _our_ present. It will work, I swear. If I'm wrong, I'll go off cookies for life."

Ginny managed a weak chuckle, and looked back up at Hermione, the Unspeakables, and the mound of crowded boxes. "So, you'll send someone into the past through the time potion-"

"-and with the 'co-ordinates' for _this_ future. Then they'll finish the pathway connection on that side of the timeline, and they'll be able to come back." Tori said firmly, forcing as much confidence as she could into her voice. "It will take them awhile to build the portal in 1995, but they should be able to come back to whatever time we set for them in the present."

Ginny felt her head spinning. For in the past two weeks, all she had managed to hear were rumours and speculations, and no concrete plans to get her family back. But now it was tangible, now it was _real_, and she felt pulled between laughing and crying. "Would only an Unspeakable be able to build this 'portal'?"

"Not really." Tori looked over Audrey's shoulder and jotted out an incorrect equation. "Building it shouldn't be overly complex, it just takes a great deal of time-"

"Let me go." Ginny said without hesitance, reaching into her pocket to feel the piece of old parchment beneath her fingertips. She found it relaxing–reassuring–to reread Harry's letter, even though she had practically memorised it ages ago. Just touching it made her feel more stable, more in control. "Tell me how to build it, and I'll go back."

* * *

**A/N: I didn't really feel like writing Astoria as an ice queen–a Narcissa duplicate, if you will. So why not give her a fun, bubbly personality? We know from the epilogue that Draco Malfoy changed at least somewhat, and there were some major hints alluding to a connection between Rose and Scorpius. So in 'HTT', Scorpius is a loyal egoist who took after his mother, Tori, who fell in love with Draco because of a shared obsession with Quidditch!**

**Now for Audrey: I just had to include the 'canon' character who shares my first name. Terrible logic, yes, but I'm so tired of reading fics where she's a Percy duplicate. So I decided that Audrey helped tweak Percy out of his pompous ways, while both remained Ravenclaw bookworms at heart. Indeed, the hyperactive, muggleborn Mrs. Audrey Weasley's addiction to books can only be matched by her fascination with magic. She and her father-in-law have great dinner conversations, but for some reason the other Weasleys quickly vacate the scene when they begin their excited comparisons of rubber duckies to inflatable hippogriffs.**

**As far as the time stuff goes: ****Deus ex machina? Huh, never heard of it :D**


	9. Teddy and Tales

**General Disclaimer: Little Miss Me was born in 1990. J.K. Rowling got the idea of HP in 1990. Thus, it is safe to assume that I did not write HP. Unless I'm a crazy prodigy, or secretly possess a time turner.**

* * *

_With almost everyone's heads still adjusting from the massive memory charm, the puzzled sixth year Gryffindor prefects ushered the likewise confused first years out of the Great Hall. Older Harry hurriedly whispered to his kids and left with Teddy and Dumbledore. (From Ch.10: Petrificus and Pranksters)_

* * *

Teddy Lupin was very good at keeping his cool.

The Potters and Weasleys had quick fuses and were dangers to everyone within a mile radius, but Teddy had always been able to keep a calm facade. After all, he was used to racing away from a rampaging Bill Weasley, extinguishing James' explosions, and battling other auror-hopefuls. He could deal with surprising situations. He could deal with haywire magic, insane relatives, an overbearing gran, and overprotective godparents. He was entirely unflappable. Un-shock-able. Un-panic-able.

"Thank you again for taking the positions on such, ah, short notice." Albus Dumbledore said pleasantly as he led the two newest teachers towards the Grand Staircase. Teddy couldn't help but think that metamorphmagus hair would absolutely match the Headmaster's multicoloured robes. Indeed, Dumbledore's navy blue with fluorescent silver stars would go great with bright sunshine yellow and purple polka-dots.

Teddy quirked his head to the side, and his hair changed accordingly. _Harry_ shot him a look of amusement.

Yes, Teddy was calm, cool, collected, and definitely not having an internal panic attack. Of course not. He was focusing on the bright colours because Dumbledore really did have that odd of a fashion sense. He was certainly not concentrating on obscure details so as to avoid the Hungarian Horntail in the room.

Absolutely not.

So what if the impossible had happened. _Again_. Merlin, why was his family so insane? But, so what. So what if they were back in 1995, back at the start of the war. So what if Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks hadn't fallen in love yet or gotten married. So what if his biological parents were still alive-it was an opportunity, right? Bloody miraculous really. No need to be nervous.

Teddy swallowed heavily, and sped his pace to catch up with the others.

'Just stay calm.' He berated himself, wiping a bit of traitorous sweat off his forehead. 'I won't even meet them for awhile.'

But–what if they weren't what he imagined? What if they didn't like him?

No, that was stupid. It would be fine. It. Would. Be. Fine! Great, excellent even. Course it would be. Someday he'd look back and be _grateful_ that his git of a god-brother brought him to the edge of a bloody panic attack by meddling with powerful magic!

_Harry_ gave him an odd look. Teddy tried to stifle his hyperventilation and smile back reassuringly. It came out as more of a grimace. From his godfather's concerned expression it was clear he wasn't convinced. Dumbledore was saying something, but the young metamorphmagus couldn't bring himself to listen. Which was going against all his auror training of observing your surroundings, _constant vigilance_, and the like, but he didn't care.

For Teddy was definitely losing his cool, and he didn't like it. No, not one bit. Not at all.

"Here we are." The Headmaster stepped off into the second floor corridor. "Your classroom, and your personal rooms are attached to the back. Since there are two of you, the space will have separated itself off into two bedrooms and a shared Common Room."

He opened the bronze door and led them inside. The DADA classroom was identical to how Teddy remembered it, albeit being empty of all personal touches. Long windows made up the side wall, shelves of defence books towered along the back, and two teachers' desks lay opposite it at the front. A winding staircase lay behind the front blackboards, and Teddy assumed it led to the private rooms.

"Schedules and attendance sheets for your classes should be in the Common Room," Dumbledore led them between the rows of students' desks and up the stairs, "which can be accessed through the portrait of Sir George at the top of these steps. You can set the password for whatever you like, but the temporary one is 'Excalibur'."

The Headmaster came to a halt directly before the portrait of a gallant knight atop a white steed, who was waving his sword at a small Welsh Green dragon. Only the latter turned to acknowledge Dumbledore and the password–Sir George continued his dramatic monologue, unaware of his sudden audience. The portrait slid open on its hinges.

"En garde, you foul beast!" Sir George threateningly gestured towards the dragon. "Where art thou hiding thy fair mai-"

Teddy heard bursting fire and a loud yelp before the doorway closed behind them. Looking away from the now bare wall, the metamorphmagus blinked at the sight that met his eyes. For almost every detail of the common room–from its round walls, the scruffy, overstuffed crimson and yellow armchairs, windows lined with copper, warmly flickering fireplace, to the banners' colours resembling flames themselves–seemed at once immensely comforting and intrinsically off.

Teddy looked around at his companions just as _Harry_'s eyes widened in realisation, and the Headmaster began to chuckle.

"It seems that Hogwarts wanted to accommodate you both." Dumbledore said, peering at the lion and badger decorated carpet in interest. "Wonderful magic, just wonderful. The castle never ceases to amaze me."

Teddy followed his gaze down to the woven animals playing hide-and-seek on the floor, and he suddenly understood. This place was both familiar and unknown because it was a mix of the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Common Rooms. How could Hogwarts have sensed their houses of allegiance? Maybe it worked a bit like the Room of Requirement, and both he and _Harry_ had subconsciously pictured their old common rooms, so 'Hogwarts' combined the two? It was as good a theory as any, he supposed.

He looked up as Dumbledore began talking. "Since you haven't had a chance to get settled yet, would you prefer for your classes to start in a few days time?"

_Harry_ leaned down to pick up the papers on the table. "I'm sure we can cobble together a few lesson plans, right Ted? I have some ideas for tomorrow's classes which might work."

"Excellent." Dumbledore's twinkle reignited. "I'll leave both of you to it. Since it is late, we should perhaps wait to untangle the mysteries of time until tomorrow?"

Teddy gave a weak smile while his godfather chuckled humourlessly.

"I'll take that as a yes." The Headmaster began to exit the room. "Very well, if you need help with anything please floo my office or call up one of the House Elves. I imagine that a particular exuberant elf would be delighted to see you, Professor Parker."

A shadow passed over _Harry_'s face, but he hid it quickly behind a smile and bid the Headmaster good night. As the portrait shut once more, Teddy opened his mouth to ask his godfather what was going on, but stopped at the other man's expression. He made a mental note to bring it up later.

_Harry_ sunk into the armchair nearest the fire, peering down at the schedules. With a flick of his wand, he handed identical copies to Teddy, who muttered his thanks which narrowing his eyes at his godfather. Teddy had barely ever seen him look this-worn out. He recalled how many times _Harry_ had ruffled his hair that evening, something which he only ever did when particularly on edge.

"Teddy," _Harry_ looked up with a smile, "these chairs are here for a reason, you know."

"Yeah, yeah." Teddy mumbled, sitting opposite his godfather as he continued looking at him nervously.

The newly redheaded man raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to burst into flames."

"I know, I-" Teddy said quickly, but stopped when _Harry_ all-but unconsciously messed up his hair.

"Ted?" Now his godfather was peering at him in worry. "Is there anything you want to talk to me about? The kids probably view this entire thing as an adventure, but I know it must be harder for you."

"I'm fine." Teddy said without thinking. It wasn't even that he didn't want to speak. Questions and anxieties struggled to burst out of him, but they all refused to form into words. It was just a mass of worries, of speculations, of-

"Merlin, that answer is frustrating, isn't it." _Harry_ seemed torn between amusement and exasperation. "Teddy, I understand if you don't want to talk right now. You might be feeling overwhelmed, with everything from the time travelling to your par-" he paused at the look on his godson's face, "-to the war. Just know that whenever you want someone to listen, I will _always_ be here. Never doubt that."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. Thanks _Harry_." Teddy said, his voice not sounding like his own. He kept his gaze centred on the fireplace, but he could sense his godfather looking at him in concern. A knot had formed in his chest, and he grappled for another topic.

"What was the golden magic." Teddy blurted out. He felt a bit chagrined when he turned and saw _Harry_'s nervous expression, but at least the frog in his throat had disappeared. "I've always wondered about it, and the vague answers you gave to everyone tonight was really curious. You shot an _expelliarmus_ at Voldemort–there were no 'complications'."

"There were." _Harry_'s hand yet again made his hair even messier than usual. "Complications, that is. They just didn't get into the history books."

Teddy closed his mouth when he realised he had been gaping. He cast his mind around for any mention over the years, or anything other than the golden magic that had ever seem 'out-of-place' with his godfather. There were plenty of odd things certainly, but nothing which seemed like a side-effect. Only hushed, anxious whispers, and silenced conversations whenever the Potter and Weasley adults noticed he was listening.

"You know about the Elder Wand." _Harry_ waved said wand with a sigh. "Do you remember the story I used to tell you about the Three Brothers and the Deathly Hallows?"

Teddy nodded, uncertain about where this was going. "Beedle the Bard. I used to love those tales, I'd get you and gran to tell them to me over and over again. I'm still jealous of Au-Hermione's original copy."

_Harry_ smiled. "I'd always get out my invisibility cloak for you to hide under, since you insisted it made the story more interesting."

"It did!" Teddy said firmly, getting into the memories and partly forgetting his original question. "It was even better when James and Al got older. The three of us would tug it back and forth–Merlin, I used to be so surprised it remained in one piece. Until I realised you must have been switching it out-"

_Harry_ froze, but Teddy was looking into the fire in reminiscence and didn't notice.

"-Demiguise hair and whatnot. But I think Jamie's still convinced that you have _the_ invisibility cloak. Still, it was a brilliant idea; made the story much better. Especially since you did win the actual Elder Wand, though it clearly wasn't 'unbeatable' like in the legend. For the longest time I was half-convinced that you were hiding the Resurrection Stone somewhere!" He rambled on, gazing at the fireplace's glow and not seeing his godfather's pale face. "But then you'd be the 'Master of Death'. Mmm, another interesting title, right? What a laugh. Even Jamie knows that one's impossible."

"Teddy," _Harry_ began hesitantly, and Teddy's eyes widened at he turned back and noticed the older man's haunted appearance, "all three of the Deathly Hallows are real, not only the wand."

The metamorphmagus started to refute this, but stopped at his godfather's serious expression. Slowly, the dots began to connect. But, but it couldn't be correct. It was an old fairy tale! It was- "Right. Sure they are. Then where are the other two? The cloak and the ring?"

"The invisibility cloak that was given to Ignotus Peverell–the third brother in the story–continued to be passed down from father to son through the ages."

"So the Peverells still have it?" Teddy asked dubiously.

_Harry_ sighed. "The family still has it, but their last name is no longer Peverell."

A flash of a memory came to Teddy's mind: of himself, James and Al, all young, in pjs, and with an invisibility cloak draped over their heads, hanging onto _Harry_'s every word as he told them another bedtime story. But this time, Jamie kept interrupting, for he was going through a stage where he wanted to figure out how everything worked:

_"But, but dad," James asked, and Harry looked at the place where his son's head should be, "if the cloak goes dad to son to dad to son to dad to son to dad to son to-"_

_ "Jamie!" An invisible Al lightly hit his brother._

_ "Albie!" James retorted, rubbing his arm. "Fine. But dad, how did you get the cloak?"_

_ Even in the bedroom's darkness, Teddy could tell that his godfather's eyes were twinkling. "Why, my father passed it down to me. And someday, I'll pass it on as well."_

Blinking as he came back to reality, Teddy stared at his godfather in disbelief. "Your dad gave it to you, it wasn't just a story."

_Harry_ nodded, a soft smile on his lips. "I never switched out invisibility cloaks. I've been meaning to tell you for ages, but the moment never seemed right. I'll tell the others when they're older, though like you said, I think Jamie has always believed the truth about the cloak."

Teddy's thoughts seemed to be on repeat. "Peverell became Potter..."

"...and then Parker." _Harry_ said jokingly, but Teddy was off in his own world.

"...you're related to Ignotus Peverell. You won the wand, so you possess two of the Deathly Hallows? This is bloody unreal. Next you're going to tell me you used the Holy Grail as a lemonade pitcher!"

_Harry_ shook his head. "Haven't found that yet, though Bill might have. But I think you're missing the obvious question."

"What obvious ques-" Teddy's voice stilled, and he inhaled swiftly. "Where's the stone?"

"Currently?" His godfather rhetorically asked. "It's been made into a ring, and is under a number of protective charms in a little shack owned by the Gaunts. In our own time, it's beyond the Veil of Death."

"Right." Teddy rubbed his forehead. "Right. Of course you'd know about all three of them. So where's the cloak?"

His godfather hesitated, but took off his jacket. Flipping it inside out, he tapped it with his wand and pulled back a hidden flap. Airy, silvery fabric flowed out onto his hands.

"I always keep it on me." _Harry_ explained when he saw that his godson was temporarily incapable of speech. "I solemnly swear it's the real cloak, the real Hallow. Though to be fair, an exact duplicate is lying in my counterpart's trunk up in Gryffindor Tower."

Teddy didn't particularly care that his jaw was hanging agape. For not only had his godfather collected two mythical objects, but he had also managed to drive the anxieties about the Lupins from Teddy's mind.

"I really shouldn't believe this." The metamorphmagus said quietly, staring at the cloak. "If you were anyone else, I'd send you to St. Mungo's. Myself too."

"I've heard that a lot." _Harry_'s slight smile lingered.

"Seriously, this is crazy. But absolutely brilliant, and the sort of thing that could only happen to you." Teddy took a deep breath. "How did you not drive Hermione mad during Hogwarts?"

_Harry_ shrugged. "By our second year, I think Hermione assumed that she'd believe as many as six new impossible things before breakfast. She had an entire hypothesis worked out and everything. Christ, her arguments with Luna about logic and rationalising the 'impossible' would go on for hours." He paused. "I always thought Luna had the better point, but never tell Hermione I said that. She'd likely murder me in my sleep."

"Well, if you're the Master of Death..." Teddy weakly joked, but stopped and groaned when he saw his godfather's sheepish expression. "Oh Merlin, what now?"

_Harry_ rubbed his head, as though he was trying to work out his answer. "The golden magic you were asking me about? That came to me after I collected the Deathly Hallows."

Teddy blinked. He felt like he had missed something, and he did not want to know what he had overlooked. "The Deathly Hallows."

"Yes." _Harry_ nodded.

"All three of them? _The_ Deathly Hallows?"

"Exactly." _Harry_ looked at Teddy curiously. "You're taking this rather well."

"Oh, why shouldn't I?" Teddy said with a tinge of sarcasm and hysteria. "We're two decades in the past, my parents are alive, and it turns out my godfather has all three Hallows and is the Master of Death! A title which is bloody fictional, by the way, and now I half expect you to turn into the Grim Reaper because you're _Harry Freaking Potter_ and that is _exactly_ the sort of thing you'd do!"

_Harry_ blinked, untangling Teddy's rant. "The Grim Reaper?"

Teddy nodded his head furiously.

"That's not what being the 'Master of Death' means, Ted." His godfather said drily.

"Oh, so now it's an honorific," Teddy flung his hands about, "and just means that you'll–how did that story go–'meet Death as an old friend', or whatnot? Christ, I can't believe I believe this. How did you even get the stone?"

"Dumbledore gave me the Resurrection Stone." Another shadow passed over _Harry_'s face, before it quickly cleared. "And no, the title isn't just an honorific, unfortunately. But it doesn't mean I'm immortal or the Grim Reaper."

"Then what does it mean?" Teddy said tiredly, only just realising how late it was getting. He wondered if his god-siblings were having as much fun in 1995 as he was.

"It means," _Harry_ hesitated, his eyes flashing with something that Teddy didn't recognise, "I'm a bit more 'in-tune' with the other world."

"Now you sound like Luna."

"Ted, I'm being serious." The older man sighed. "I managed to get rid of the ring ages ago, but I'm still more aware of ghosts and other lingering forms of death than most people. Consider it like the difference between wizards, and muggles who can only sense and not see ghosts. This was also where the extra magic came from." He held both his hands out in front of him, and a fizzle of golden light leaped between his fingers. "But, as I said before, it's not overly powerful. Mostly."

Teddy's thoughts were once again brimming over with questions, but he focused on one and swept the others temporarily aside. "You got rid of the ring? How, why?" He couldn't see himself do that. Nor could he picture his godfather giving up the opportunity to talk to his dead loved ones.

_Harry_ hesitated, and Teddy could tell that this was the first time he had seriously considered not answering.

"What happened at the final battle of the Second War is well-known, but the aftermath was kept a secret." _Harry_ drew in a deep, faltering breath. "Teddy, I really don't want to get into this, but there's not much of a choice right now–which is also why I've been telling you about the Deathly Hallows. When I became the owner of all three of the Hallows, I didn't notice much of a change except that the objects refused to leave my side. But my friends began to worry because they noticed that my, well, that my personality was changing. The war had just ended, so they thought that maybe I needed time to settle down. Hermione was convinced I had PTSD, especially when I became distant with Ginny. But everything spiralled out of control once I started auror training."

_Harry_ stared at the Elder Wand for a few moments, his thoughts clearly in another time. "It was Ron who really raised the alarm. He had noticed in training that I was acting more violent, more reckless, more on edge."

"You had just come out of months in hiding." Teddy argued. "It would be strange if you _weren't_ a bit paranoid."

"It wasn't just paranoia." _Harry_ sighed, leaning back in the armchair. "Looking back, I felt more like a blur than like myself. I would do things without thinking about the consequences, I wasn't even conscious of what I was doing most of the time. Even when I had only two of the Hallows, I had no problem casting two of the Unforgiveables. But when I had all three? Merlin, I had no self-control. My magic would just, act."

_Harry_ rubbed his eyes. "I distanced myself from my friends and began living moment by moment. That's what should be advertised about being 'Master of Death': that you stop caring about life. That would stop people from chasing after the Hallows."

Teddy's godfather seemed to be a thousand miles away, and it took a few minutes this time for him to shake himself from his reverie and return to reality. "Anyway, there were a few–incidents–before Ron finally caught up with me. The details don't matter, but Hermione saved my life by figuring out how to chuck the Resurrection Stone through the Veil of Death. When I was separated from the three Hallows, a bit of the extra magic lingered, but it was completely under my control."

_Harry_ paused in his tale to pocket the Elder Wand. "Everything went back to normal. But Teddy, the stone still exists in this time. Since it's not technically in my possession, I don't think it will effect me like it used to. But I already noticed my magic acting a bit off, so the sooner we get out of this time the better."

Teddy felt as though his throat, mouth and tongue had gone dry. "Why are you telling me this now? Why-"

"Because I wanted to make sure." _Harry_ replied without hesitance. "I don't think anything will happen, but in case something does, someone needs to be aware. Teddy, I'm sorry for putting this on your shoulders, but I wouldn't worry about it. This is an absolute worst-case scenario. Just-if I suddenly stop acting like myself, I want you to go directly to Dumbledore. Got that?"

Teddy nodded numbly. _Harry_ sighed.

"I really am sorry." He repeated. "There just isn't another option. I can't throw any of the Hallows into the Veil, because I'm not sure what would happen to their counterparts from this time. We've changed a lot of things, but timelines are very flexible, and so far everything we've done can be obliviated. Destroying magical artefacts, however, would definitely alter the future."

"So you're just hoping for the best?" Teddy said incredulously, hardly believing that his godfather would do something like that.

_Harry_ shrugged. "If you have alternatives, I'm willing to try anything. As it is, our best bet is for someone from our time coming back for us soon. The Department of Mysteries has a vault set up for time travellers to leave messages. I'll go to Gringotts soon to place letters to the family and the Unspeakables explaining our situation. If you write any messages you want delivered, let me know."

Teddy nodded, thinking of Victoire and his gran. But, as he thought of his guardian, other faces came to mind. "About the stone. _Harry_, does it really-"

"It doesn't bring them back, not really." _Harry_ interrupted gently. "They are like ghosts, but even less. Teddy, if you want to see them-"

"I'll get those letters to you tomorrow." Teddy said quickly, it being his turn to interrupt. "Besides, we should stop talking about this. We have classes to plan."

_Harry_ eyed his fidgeting godson for a few moments, before sighing and nodding. "I guess you're right. But I think I have an excellent plan for the first lesson..."

* * *

**A/N: There has to be more to the 'Master of Death' thing than canon lets on. _Harry_'s the freaking _Master of Death_: the obvious drawback must be a separation from life. The second drawback? I've alluded to it, but lets see if anyone caught it! I love how I can totally make this DH/Epilogue compliant by bending around the rules.**

** Sorry for the info bomb, but I felt that it was necessary for both Teddy's and your guys' understanding. And**** _Harry_ telling bedtime stories to his kids? So adorable. I'm seriously tempted to write a series of one-shots just about that!**


	10. Moons and Matrimony

**A/N: **This chapter includes excerpts from Chapter 2: Tact and Time, and the gorgeous song 'Moon River'.

Did anyone else hate the Trio's last scene in the eighth movie before Harry walked to his 'death'? While my inner Hr/H shipper was cheering with glee, how awful was it that Ron didn't say anything to his best friend _who was preparing to commit suicide?!_ I don't particularly like Ron and even I thought that was way below the belt. They should have hugged, cried or, or something! Gah, it was so stupid!

I'm thus rewriting Ron's awful part in this chapter so that he's not an utter b*****d and is reasonably grief-stricken and whatnot at the thought of his best friend dying. So there.

An enormous thank you as always to my fabulous beta, spellmugwump97. She pretty much saved the entire story with a previous email, y'all, so you'd best go and send her gifts and read all of her wonderful stories! Spell, you're a genius.

**General Disclaimer: **Rowling never utilised the full implications of such interesting notions as 'obliviate' and 'Master of Death'. Since I intend on exploiting them mercilessly, I'm clearly not her.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had made many headlines over the years. Ever since things had gone so horribly wrong with his sister, he hadn't particularly cared about what was printed about him. Let people gossip. Rumours were just rumours, after all, and most had a great deal of humour around them if one knew where to look. He still chuckled at the thought of Muriel Prewett's scandalised expression when he'd happily confirmed that the secret thirteenth usage of dragon's blood was indeed a natural stimulant. If he remembered correctly, Bathilda Bagshot couldn't look him in the eye for months.

So this? The elderly Headmaster smiled to himself. 'Scandal in Hogwarts', indeed. What was Miss. Skeeter thinking? She was correct of course, but seeing as she only knew about Dolores Umbridge being tossed out in lieu of a mysterious stranger, the title was quite exaggerated. Still, it was enough to get the parents in an uproar. Yet after the basilisk uproar this wouldn't be too awful. A few Howlers at most, a stormy Malfoy clan, and an apoplectic Minister. So–same old, same old.

He threw the paper off to the side of his desk. Fawkes snorted and pushed it away from his pedestal. "The paper isn't infected." Dumbledore said, amused, to his old friend.

"You never know these days." The portrait of Headmaster Armando Dippet looked down mistrustingly. "With what that rag's been printing, an imbedded curse isn't impossible. A charm for blind belief, if you ask me: the only reason anyone would continue to buy the rubbish."

"Don't be ridiculous." Phineas Nigellus Black sniffed. "A 'curse' on a word. Of all the preposterous-"

"Like taboos?" Dippet shot back from long practice. The other portraits failed miserably in pretending not to latch onto every word of the ensuing argument. "Don't think I've forgotten the story about your mistress who-"

"That's enough!" Phineas thundered. "Besmerging the Black name and my own, how dare you!"

"Now now, Armando, Phineas, this is nothing to argue about." Dumbledore said to the two raging, painted wizards.

"Nothing? Nothing!" Phineas' anger grew. "You senile old–"

"OI!" Numerous painting shouted protests in unison, cutting off the last of the remark.

"He is!" Phineas would not be perturbed. "Look at his dealings with the so-called 'time travellers'. Do you need anymore proof of senility?"

Dumbledore sighed. "They are indeed time travellers. We have already gone over the ample proof..."

"A patronus and some knowledge that anyone could learn?" Phineas spoke snidely. "Oh wait, how could I forget: the memories."

"Indeed, the memories."

"That you will not tell anyone about." Phineas finished with a sneer. By this point a few other paintings had begun nodding in reluctant agreement.

"They are private." Dumbledore repeated for what seemed to him to be the hundredth time.

"I'm sure." Phineas snorted before lapsing into silence after an annoyed squawk and a warning burst of flame from Fawkes. The current Headmaster sent his familiar a nod of thanks before leaning back in his chair, staring at the _Prophet_ without seeing it.

Hmm, the memories that the older Harry Potter had shown him. Yes, they had been one of a kind, and far more than enough to put any doubts Dumbledore had to rest. Not only that, but they hinted at the end of many theories and possible magical loopholes that had thus far existed only in his head. Possibilities come to light. Having the chance to view the repercussions of his current actions. He stared at the parchment some more, the whirling of his ornaments and Fawkes' gentle thrilling sending his thoughts back to the abrupt halt to the year's Welcoming Feast.

_Dumbledore raised his wand up from the dark-haired man's chest to his head._

_"Legilimens!" Pronounced the Headmaster sharply, and the spell branched from his wand to meet the still-sitting unknown man._

* * *

_'Moon river, wider than a mile_

_I'm crossing you in style some day.'_

A forest? What was he doing here? Dumbledore peered around more closely, but only small breaking twigs and the occasional growl broke the utter silence. No one could be seen.

What–

"I have to do this, I have to." The whisper was so silent that Dumbledore momentarily assumed it was the wind. He turned to where the noise had come from and almost jumped back in surprise. While the figure approaching him would normally be invisible in the night shades hanging from the trees, the partly full moon cast everything in an eery white glow. The boy coming approaching him resembled a ghost. "This has to end."

It was Harry Potter, but not the somewhat happy student that he knew. This one looked to be a few years older: bruised, battered, half-starved and defeated. And in that moment Dumbledore believed that it truly was the boy-who-lived. His green eyes (so much like his mother's) were enough to convince him. For though they were slightly sunken in exhaustion, no polyjuice potion or enchantment could fake the determination which shone from its depths, nor could any magic imitate the feeling of utter collapse which had replaced the power and love they typically radiated.

The bloodshot eyes closed. Dumbledore had a feeling the poor boy didn't even realise he was murmuring a breathless prayer:

"...just let them be okay..."

Harry suddenly jumped, his eyes flying open in an epiphany. He clutched at a pouch around his neck in wild desperation and drew out–a golden snitch? What in Merlin's name...

"_I open at the close_." The boy gave a hoarse whisper, pressing the snitch to his lips. Taking it away, Dumbledore could make out the top opening to reveal a ring with a curious stone on top. The Headmaster felt his stomach drop in horrible realisation. Though he couldn't see any figures emerge from the stone, the young wizard's reaction made it all too obvious who had appeared.

As a desperate conversation between the mainly-unseen family ensued, Dumbledore's thoughts whirled. Harry had the ring, at least at one point. What did this mean for himself? For Ariana? Had he too discovered the Hallows and–

The wise man weakly forced his mind away from such useless thoughts. He had known for some time that he was not great enough to possess the magic, even if it was the sole thing that could free him from his guilt. He shouldn't–he had no right–to envy the young man this reunion with loved ones he had never known. Trying to divert his attention away from the one-sided conversation, the Headmaster contemplated another mystery. The 'I open at the close': did that mean what he suspected?

As another scene surfaced, Dumbledore frowned. He was already convinced, there was no need for further proof. The truth couldn't be more apparent and he needed to return to the Great Hall to stop a pointless fight before it began. It was only luck that the Ministry representative–that despicable Dolores Umbridge–had yet to intervene.

"I believe you!" He shouted out as another recollection flowed into being around him. "No more proof is necessary, my dear boy. You dear, dear brave man."

But apparently this way of conveying a message left something to be desired; the new memory continued unabated. Dumbledore–amid his guilty excitement of being able to sneak another peek at the future–wondered whether the time traveller was picking which memories he would see, or if his mind had unconsciously chosen the things which would most convince an onlooker that he was indeed Harry Potter. It was obvious that the older wizard was at least a partly talented Occlumens (he gave a sigh of relief), so either case was possible.

Yet that was entirely beside the point, and he reprimanded himself to focus before the memories went on without him. He frowned as he looked at the scene being brushed into being around him as though thick globs of paint were falling from the sky. Red, gold and dusty brown colours flowed downwards until the image of one of the Gryffindor dorm rooms was clearly visible. Still, it was more torn and demolished than he remembered it. The beds were empty except for one sleeping figure. Harry Potter hadn't bothered to take off the glasses that were perched on the verge of falling off his nose, and he in his blood and grime coated clothes rolled restlessly on top of the covers. As Harry's eye twitched Dumbledore watched as his bruised and cut arm reaching out unconsciously before him.

"They're here, all 'round." The boy whispered in his sleep, the mumbling only just perceptible. "Just have t'get a bit closer, a bit bit bit and-and-" He twitched again; his hand fell to the bed as his body shifted over to another dream. Dumbledore frowned again. Even aside from the blood and that it looked as though a hurricane had swept through the room, something was wrong with this scene.

But before he could investigate he was abruptly jerked into another part of Hogwarts, a deserted and ramshackled corridor, where three familiar students were having an argument. The Headmaster was puzzled before it dawned on him that one of them had given this memory to Harry for one reason or another.

"I'm telling you," Ronald Weasley tried to persuade Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley, the latter two dragging him down Hogwarts' deserted and ramshackled corridors, "Harry hasn't had any sleep in ages. He of all people deserves a lie-in."

"If he had checked in with Madam Pomfrey, then obviously." Ginny huffed, her frustration combating against a sorrow embedded in her red-rimmed eyes. "But he might be injured! Noble prat of a hero."

"He was walking around, he's fine!" Ron argued. Both girls ignored him, and from the nervousness in his features it was clear that he also wouldn't rest easy until he knew his best friend was all right. "Okay, look. We'll take a quick peek but we don't have to wake him up."

Hermione suddenly swirled around, surprising Ron as he stumbled back. "You absolute git." She hissed. "We thought Harry was _dead_. More importantly, Voldemort believed he was dead. Heavens, why didn't I think of this earlier? How could I have been so stupid!"

"Think of what?" Ron said nervously, backing away from the witch who was clearly on the verge of cracking.

"That Harry must have been hit with som–something." Ginny supplied the answer with a hiccuping voice, pulling them towards Gryffindor Common Room at an even faster pace.

Ron felt bewilderment wash over the grief and hollow relief shining through his expression. "But Harry isn't de..." he couldn't say the word, and Hermione looked back at him with a softening gaze.

"If Voldemort thought it would be fatal," she explained even while racing forward, "it could easily have side-effects. We need to get to him now!"

"But he was fine this morning." Ron half-protested while speeding up his run. Dumbledore floated after them, torn between contemplating the growing mystery and feeling horror sink in as he looked around what was left of the castle.

_'Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker_

_Wherever you're going,_

_I'm going your way.'_

As the children raced up Gryffindor Tower Dumbledore returned to the place of the previous memory. Ginny wasted no time, racing over to the bed and, after hesitating, shook the sleeping boy lightly.

"G'way." Harry groaned into his pillow. "M'tired."

"I know," she said gently, though continued trying to get him to wake, "but we need to make sure you're okay."

His eyes snapped open suddenly and Dumbledore watched him look up in confusion. His amazement only grew as he took in the petite redhead before him.

"_Ginny_?" Harry breathed, struggling to sit up. "Merlin, it's great to see you! But how'd you get here? Where are–" he looked behind her to Ron, Hermione, and the dorm room. His brow crinkled, "–Hogwarts? What?"

Hermione inhaled a sharp jab of breath. Rushing to the bedside she placed her hand on Harry's forehead. He looked up to share a confused glance with Ron, but found that both the Weasleys were gaping at him in trepidation. Dumbledore felt his own confusion rise from the reactions.

"Harry," Ron's voice was strangled, "mate, what's the last thing you remember?"

The boy seemed confused and, for a second, deaged by quite a few years. He hesitated, but with his three closest friends staring at him so intently he sighed and shut his eyes. "What? Well-we were in the tent, and then there were snatchers. Merlin, it was stupid of me to say _his_ name. They took us to Malfoy Manor and-"

His voice trailed off. He opened his eyes in shock and half-jumped on his surprised best female friend. "Hermione! Are you all right? What did that bitch do to you!" Dumbledore watched the scene, startled. What exactly had happened?

"I'm fine." She tried to calm him down. "Harry, this is really important–can you remember anything else? Any injuries, curses?"

"Injuries? Blimey Hermione, _you're_ asking me that?" Harry didn't stop looking at her anxiously, but he did seem to go back to concentrating. "Still, I think, did Dobby rescue us? Then I got Malfoy's wand."

He finished and looked between his friends. "But what's this all about, how did you three get hurt? Why is my chest so sore? Would someone tell me why the bloody hell we're at Hogwarts?!"

"That's all you can remember?" Ron's paleness was amplified by his red hair and stark freckles.

"Wait, your chest hurts?" Ginny and Hermione exclaimed in unison, both flying forward and–amidst Harry's protests–lifted his shirt up.

There was a moment of silence. By his friends' shocked expressions Harry felt his anxiety rise. Dumbledore could see the questions spiralling about his eyes as the three other students and his shirt blocked his view.

"Harry," Ginny was deathly white, "why do you have a lightning bolt scar?"

Harry blinked. "Gin," he said hesitantly, "are _you_ feeling alright? I've had this scar since I was one."

"She meant, you berk," Ron's said with panicked disbelief, "why do you have the same mark on your chest?" Another pause.

"I have WHAT?!" Harry cried, pushing past a petrified Hermione and–ignoring his body's protests–pulled his shirt all the way off and stared down at the burns and scrapes littering his chest in disbelief. And there over his heart, the angry red scar stood out against a swelling black bruise.

It was there, the same scar. Which could only mean another _avada kedavra_...and suddenly Dumbledore was partly swept away from the scene. He could see Harry become rigid and his friends' frantic attempts to revive him, but swaying, nightmarish images interlocked with the dorm room:

_-a childlike turn of the monster's head, a raised wand, the flash of green penetrating his last vision of Ginny-_

"Harry?!"

_-a sacrificial lamb!-_

_-you would be able to … let's say ... board a train-_ Dumbledore blinked as the flash of an empty King's Cross and his own form faded. What on earth...

"We have to get him to hospital! He's not responding!"

_-digging dirt out of the grave overlooking a picturesque beach, lifting the small body in his hands-_

"Send out a Patronus, do it now! Harry, Harry answer me! DON'T LEAVE ME AGAIN!"

_-shadows of his past around him, his mum staring at him hungrily, as though this one glance was all she had. A ring cut into his palm-_

Harry opened his eyes slowly and tried to sit up. He was immediately pushed back onto the pillow.

"Mate," Ron said shakily, "don't move okay? You're really hurt, you fainted and, and I think you have amnesia. But Pomfrey's brilliant, she'll fix you up in a jiff and then we'll have to rescue you from the hospital wing-"

"I remember everything." Harry said tiredly, as though he found it difficult to keep from collapsing. "It all came back when I saw the scar. Dobby, the battle, walking to the forest, the killing curse: everything." His friends grew even more panicked; Harry seemed to instantly regret his word choice.

"_The killing curse_?" Ron spluttered.

"You walked into the forest? We thought they'd kidnapped you!"

"Never mind that, I'm with my brother: _what bloody killing curse_?"

Harry's eyes widened as the three others growled in annoyed anxiety. "This ... is hard to explain. Can't I get some sleep first?"

"No." Hermione said bluntly, fixing her best friend with an exasperated look. "We've already sent for healers, so until they arrive you're going to tell us _what you were thinking going into the forest_!"

Harry rapidly leaned away from the girl radiating anger. "I have a good reason-" Dumbledore took a step back from the scene, having a terrible feeling that he knew precisely what they must be talking about.

"If it was your bloody hero complex or survivor's guilt," Ginny gritted out, "Merlin help me I'll-"

"No no, that wasn't it." He shook his head, before hesitantly looking at the other two. "I'm not sure if you guessed. Probably not but ... I had to let him kill me. I-damn it. I was the last horcrux."

You could have heard a knut drop.

Dumbledore breathed out in relieved elation. This was the final proof that Harry would manage to survive! Thank Merlin his theory had been correct and there had been a chance after all. But he put a hold on his relief to tune back into the unfolding drama.

"A what? What do you mean, 'I had to let him kill me'?" Ginny said blankly. Realising she was the only one speaking she turned to her side to find two identical looks of horror. "Ron, Hermione? Do you understand any of this?"

"You're a what?" Ron said weakly, not hearing his sister's questions.

Harry shook his head. "Past tense. I'm not anymore, so I guess no more visions. Or Parseltongue now that I think about it."

Neither of his best friends seemed to comprehend this, both stuck within their own thoughts. Hermione was leaning on Ron to keep her swaying to a minimum, tear stains intermingling with the cuts on their cheeks.

"S'not possible." Ron said thickly, shaking his head. "Hermione, tell him he's being an idiot."

"_What's going on?_" Ginny said, about to breath fire.

"The things we were searching for all year," Harry stumbled, trying to find the right words. He lifted the blanket over his chest self-consciously, "were horcruxes. They were–objects–which would have made Voldemort immortal."

Ginny blinked.

"But," she said slowly, "you said you _were_ one. Were you holding a horcrux?"

Harry shook his head, stopping quickly when this seemed to hurt. "No, I–I was one. Ginny, horcruxes are pieces of soul that their owner have broken off."

Hermione let out a squeak and fell into another round of sobs. Ron tried to support her even while arguing with his best friend. "See! You can't be one. Vol-Voldemort never did that to you."

"Not on purpose." Harry stared down at his lap. "I wouldn't blame you if you're disgusted by this, but just, just let me explain. Please?" Dumbledore took a guess from his downtrodden appearance that Harry didn't want to look up and risk seeing his friends' expressions change from shock to revulsion. The Headmaster shook his head sadly. The poor boy, why couldn't he let anyone in? Couldn't he see he was surrounded by his loved ones?

"When he attacked my family and the killing curse rebounded on him, his soul was already fractured and unstable. Dumbledore-" Harry hesitated and seemed to skip over something "-he left me memories which Snape gave to me. He figured that a piece of Voldemort's soul must have flung off or something and, and..." his voice dwindled away, still refusing to look up to see his friends–his family–turn away from him.

"Your scar." Ginny whispered, grief embedded in her voice. "The pain, the visions-"

"It was the connection." Harry scrubbed at his eyes, stiffly ignoring the wetness on his fingers. "If any of Voldemort's horcruxes remained–even if his body was defeated–he could come back. So when I ... when I was alive, he couldn't die."

"You gave yourself up." Ron spoke hollowly, his words heavy with suppressed emotion.

Harry still stared down at the blanket, twisting it between his fingers. "I knew he'd try to kill me. If all the horcruxes were gone it wouldn't matter if I was alive or not. The battle could be ov-"

_SLAP._

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Ginny shrieked as her not-really-official-boyfriend looked up at her disbelievingly, holding his red cheek in shock. "DON'T YOU DARE! Do you hear me? _Don't you dare._"

"Wha-what?"

Ron was glaring at him too, cradling a crying Hermione in his arms. "Be glad Ginny slapped you before I could hex you! What are you on, talking about your death like that? Can you be any more dense?"

"What?" Harry's jaw had dropped open and Dumbledore felt enormously grateful to the young Gryffindors. Meanwhile, the young boy–no, the brave, brave man–looked like he wasn't sure what was going on. "Don't you understand? That-that _thing _was in me. It always has been and there was no other choice! Voldemort had to be defeated, it didn't matter what happened to me-"

He couldn't finish for a petite redhead had launched onto him.

"You bloody git." Ginny hugged the bewildered boy-who-lived-again, careful to avoid his chest. "Why is my boyfriend such an idiot?"

"You're the one who chose him." Ron chuckled weakly, still hugging the teary brunette to him. "Hermione? You about out of tears yet?"

"Ron, you're an insensitive prat." Hermione mumbled into his chest, before turning her tear-stained expression to her shocked best friend. "Harry: shut up, hug Ginny, and if you _ever_ even think about martyring yourself again I'll-I'll-"

"-we'll body-bind and _silencio_ you, before locking you in the ghoul's attic in the Burrow until all the exciting danger's passed." Ron supplied helpfully. "That sound about right, Hermione?"

She nuzzled back into him. "Ronald Weasley, you have far more than a teaspoon of tact..."

Ron blinked. "Thanks. I think?"

_'Moon river, wider than a mile_

_I'm crossing you in style some day._

_Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker_

_Wherever you're going,_

_I'm going your way.'_

Dumbledore glanced around the scene change. The first thing that hit him was the music: a slow, melodious tone of violins which made the air glow. An alto's light voice was soon added as the memory molded before his eyes just as the orchestral tune hushed what was now a crowded ballroom. The hall was wide, with a contagious joyous atmosphere around every grinning head which was turned towards the centre. At first he had assumed it was the Great Hall, but no; this was another (though similar) enchanted ceiling which shone with twinkling stars and a sultry moon. He shifted his view back down, but could only see a continuing crowd.

Unsure about how long he would be in this memory, he walked through the shimmering witches and wizards. Though most of the older guests were adorned in dress robes, the younger generation were modelling muggle formal outfits. He caught sight of Weasley red hair (and a garish orange and neon green tuxedo which made him quite jealous) out of the corner of his eye, and was almost positive that Minerva–aged a few years–was blowing her nose off to the side, having her back patted by the current muggle Prime Minister. Wait, was that Percy Weasley quietly chatting with Mundungus Fletcher? Apparently wonders would never cease.

The Headmaster frowned, pushing his way forward as the alto voice continued her lovely melody. A cat with a pudgy face ran in front of him, parting the amused crowd as it chased after a miniature (delightedly hooting) owl. The animals were also being merrily chased by a very young blonde girl and likewise turquise-haired boy. The girl had bunched her skirt up in the race and was using a shawl as a lasso. Her partner was waving his tie to the same purpose, and seemed to have long-lost his jacket. Both were giggling breathlessly as they ran and jumped and narrowly avoided slamming into the guests.

Shaking his head fondly, Dumbledore left the children and continued on towards the middle of the room. The music increased and, at last the crowd gave way as the old wizard stepped up to see a dance floor–clear for all but two dancing figures. Thoughts of the rambunctious race were swept away at the sight.

_'Two drifters, off to see the world_

_There's such a lot of world to see.'_

For a moment Dumbledore was struck by their resemblance to another couple. But no, James Potter had never looked that calm, and the woman didn't particularly resemble Lily Potter (even her red hair was far more orange than Mrs. Potter's dark ruby). It took a moment before the Headmaster realised why he had considered a resemblance: the current couple, like the two dearly departed, clung to each other as though they never wanted to let go. Their love radiated out from their gently swaying forms.

Ginny Weasley looked lovely. Now in her twenties, a white grecian dress hung around her. The fabric along with her loose fiery hair curled as she swept around, though neither she nor her partner seemed to care that their dancing left much to be desired. On the contrary, they seemed perfectly content to sway in each other's arms and laughingly twirl in place. While the young woman's expression was filled with love and tranquility, Harry Potter's was bursting with happiness. There was just a touch of amazement on both sides: neither could keep their eyes off the other, and Dumbledore was certain that–for them in this moment–no one else existed.

_'We're after the same rainbow's end_

_Waiting 'round the bend,_

_My huckleberry friend:_

_Moon river, and me.'_

The Headmaster stepped forward as though in a trance, taking in the details of the couple and forgetting about the wider ballroom. His expression widened in joy as he spotted both Harry's faded scar and the sparkling rings on the dancing figures' fingers. He chuckled as relief at this final proof flowed through him. Idly, he supposed he was incorrect about it being Ginny _Weasley_ in the wedding dress. He curiously turned to look more closely at the assorted guests, but the memory was already fading around him.

* * *

_The Great Hall watched the two unmoving wizards in a silence that stretched across the moments to seem like hours. McGonagall looked from one man to the other hesitatingly. But all at once, Dumbledore took a step forward, his wand dropping to his side as he stared at the dark-haired man like a long lost friend. The man similarly relaxed and looked back at his children with a smile._

_The Headmaster stretched out a hand and helped the man shakingly to his feet._

_"Ah, Mr. Potter, I see we have had an accident with time?" Dumbledore chuckled as the school gasped and the younger Harry give a strangled yelp of alarm._

* * *

As the daydream faded, the Headmaster found himself back in his office. The _Evening Prophet_ lay before him as Fawkes trilled softly in the corner.

* * *

**A/N: **I absolutely adore the song 'Moon River' and I've always felt this would be a lovely first dance for a wedding. Since my mind is basically always on HP (shut it), my thoughts drifted to how I could incorporate this into the story. Because I couldn't just do a random flashback wedding scene–so boring–I remembered that a few reviewers had requested I write in what Dumbles saw when he legilimanced _Harry_. So this chapter was born, and all I had to do was figure out what other scenes to include.

I was tempted to write one of the Potter kids' birth (which would be epic and include Ginny taking off _somebody's_ limbs in a fit of labour rage), but meh, I figured the wedding bit would be cliché enough. Since I'm in love with the 'Harry-walking-into-the-forest-TO-DIE!', I knew that had to be written. I couldn't really decide on the third scene, but I needed a third one since there's _always_ a third one, so I did a little post-battle angst. Then the last one kinda took over the chapter. So yeah, that totally makes sense.

In case anyone's wondering: Harry's temporary amnesia stole everything from the point where he took Draco Malfoy's wand on–in other words, the entire time he was 'Master of Death'. Don't worry, it will all eventually make sense.


	11. Rings and Revelations

**A/N:** Is anyone else obsessed with BBC's 'Sherlock'? The modern interpretation is BRILLIANT! I totally, absolutely adore Sherlock's interactions with Watson: they are so cute, I just want to hug them both and squee! And Moriarty? Freaking. Amazing! I about died at the Tower of London opening sequence. He can so be my evil consulting criminal mastermind, for yes, "Every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain." Though darling, you aren't old-fashioned. Not in the least. I'm also certain you have a horcrux lying around. If you ever want 'a live-in one', just know that Watson's blogs would have nothing on mine… *blows a kiss*

**General Disclaimer:** If I was J.K. Rowling, I would have absolutely messed with my crazy obsessive fans:

Voldemort gazed at his wand in uncertainty. It was impossible that the brat was correct, but still, he had made the mistake of underestimating the 'boy-who-lived' before. He winced at the memory–err, memor_ies_.

'What if Potter really is the Elder Wand's master?' This doubt festered in the Dark Lord's thoughts as his enemy's monologue continued.

What he needed was a distraction, a momentary––he hid his smirk at a sudden idea.

"Potter! I. Am. Your. FATHER!"

Harry blinked, his concentration broken as revulsion filled his mind. Though after a moment of panicking, he remembered that he was the spitting image of James Potter. The boy-who-lived relaxed just as Voldemort's killing curse hit him in the chest.

Third time is the charm.

And for Tom Riddle, in the end all was well.

Scar, b*tches. SCAR!

* * *

_"Shouldn't everyone see it then?" Harry spoke in an increasingly uneasy voice. Hermione frowned: why was he growing more nervous? Was it for the same reason that he kept his hand on his scar? But no, that only happened when You Know Who was near._

_Ron was squinting at the Staff Table, but he could no more spot the odd magic than find a hiding golden snitch. "Dunno mate, I can't see anything. But look at Snape."_

_Professor Snape rubbed his left arm as he stood up stiffly. While almost all of the students still distracted by dessert, he scowlingly whispered something to the Headmaster. The Trio's gazes followed the Potion's Master as he immediately swept from the Great Hall, dark robes swirling around him (From Chapter 2: Tact and Time)._

* * *

Lord Voldemort did not like riddles.

That they reminded him of his mudblood father's moniker was bad enough. No, riddles were best once destroyed, demolished into pieces with all mysterious, possibly dangerous elements scrapped clean away. Like with the hidden Prophecy, puzzles were merely threats to be taken care of. It was a question of refusing to relinquish one's control.

If there was one thing Tom Marvolo Riddle did prize, it was in having physical power. Something which one could hold, could grasp, could see before oneself in a tangible proclamation of superiority. It was thus unsurprising that his dining room's rich decor would have been right in place in Holyrood Palace. Golden tendrils littered the adorned place holdings, dark shades of amber glinted from the torch-lit walls, and a blackened fresco of war-torn armies covered every inch of the ceiling. The grovelling servant in the doorway, shrinking back from the slithering emerald snake, only completed this picture.

What worried Voldemort about puzzles was the uneasiness that accompanied them, and the loss of definable control. The anger following his head randomly blazing with pain was thus all but predictable and unordinary. After _crucioing_ Wormtail and sending him from the room, the Dark Lord kneaded his aching forehead as the pain receded. It had felt like a Legilimancy attack, but who would be foolish and suicidal enough to dare attack his mind?

Lord Voldemort's rage and worry rapidly spiralled out of control. Calling his Death Eaters to an impromptu meeting, he mused over what might have occurred. Thoughts of plots and plans were addressed and discarded one after another, each of them failing to make sense. For there were very few British wizards skilled in the mind arts, and most of them were under his service. Of the rest, only Dumbledore was powerful and confident enough to try something as foolhardy as this. But the attack–if it was even that–had lasted nary a minute, and had been preceded only by a headache. The attacker hadn't found what he had been looking for; Voldemort was positive of that.

A frown etched the Dark Lord's brow as his followers began to rush in, bow, and nervously take seats around their master. With a flick of his wand, Wormtail's cries came to an end. But he remained sprawled on the floor, his breathing sporadic. The other Death Eaters were careful to avoid the disgraced worm. Erm, man.

Without conveying emotion or weakness, he tapped his wand against the table, and inwardly smirked as his Death Eaters flinched away. Placing his hands down, his fingers clenched upward like pale spiders. Narrowed eyes surveyed his followers, not betraying a single modicum of the discomfort he felt.

"My friends," Voldemort breathed out, relishing the looks of fright which appeared as Nagini slithered up onto the table, "I see no one was foolish enough to, tarry, when summoned." He spoke the final words with an ominous hesitance, each syllable drawn out in suspense. "Yaxley, you have learned your lesson from last time?"

"Yes, yes," Yaxley stammered, dropping his head into a half-bow, until his hair brushed the table, "my lord. I swear, I promise it won't happen again!"

Voldemort raised a hand, and the desperate man instantly fell silent. "Enough, Yaxley. You disappointed me once, but I have no desire to hear your grovelling. Make sure this oversight is never repeated."

"Of course!" He said in relief, but stopped frantically talking when he noticed the sour expression on his lord's face.

In actuality, Voldemort could care less about Yaxley's inattentiveness. Not knowing the full contents of the potentially explosive Prophecy was irritating enough, but know this? "Severus," he asked the potion's master in little more than a hiss, "has Dumbledore and his Order put any plans in place that involve the mind arts?"

Snape's momentarily confused expression, before it was covered with a blank mask, gave Voldemort his answer. "Not to my knowledge, my lord. Dumbledore knows I am proficient in that form of magic, so I would have likely been consulted if there was any such plan."

"Indeed." Voldemort breathed, steepling his fingers. The room fell into a hushed silence drowning in anticipation, for the Dark Lord had become lost in his thoughts, and his followers were not stupid enough to 'interrupt' him.

'It wasn't that fool of a Headmaster,' Voldemort supposed, 'and his brother is more interested in goats and his silly pub than in power and politics.' It could have been someone from the Ministry, but that too seemed doubtful. As did an attack from an unknown third party, for Voldemort was certain that he would have heard about potential dangers. He had not even recognised the magical signature, though the briefness of the attack would explain that.

What he was looking for was a wizard, powerful in magic, a connection to himself, and with the knowledge that he was indeed alive. Potter? Voldemort scoffed at the thought; like that dratted boy even knew about Legilimancy in the first place, or was anywhere near skilled enough to cast it. But, was it so improbable that they had a connection of sorts? According to Snape, the boy was a parseltongue, and his blood had been used in the resurrection ceremony.

A distant, half-remembered scene came to the forefront of Voldemort's mind. Once more, as clear as day, he could see Harry Potter clutching his scar in pain before burning Quirrel's skin. Now that he considered it, the boy was also in pain in the graveyard, and had practically tried to tear his lightening bolt scar from his forehead.

Voldemort petted Nagini's head slowly, consideringly.

That hadn't felt like an attack, so what if it wasn't? What if the boy, idiot that he was, had accidentally broken through? It would explain the briefness and supposed randomness of the pain. He felt his breath freeze, and fought the urge to hex somebody as another thought came to mind: _what if the foolish boy had seen something?_ How far did this blasted 'connection' go?

He slowly shook his head, just barely aware of the fact that his followers were edging slowly away from himself and his hissing pet.

"Bellatrix." Voldemort uncharacteristically barked, and all jumped except for the insane woman herself. "The object I trusted with you, is it safe?"

"Yes, yes my lord." Bellatrix Lestrange simpered, gazing at her lord eagerly. "It has not moved from my vault. Those filthy goblins know not to touch it, or else all the gold in the world wouldn't save them!

"Good, good." The Dark Lord felt himself relax. "Lucius, I trust that you have the same response. Is my object safe?"

Only silence followed. A rage swiftly filled Voldemort chest as he peered into Lucius Malfoy's nervous eyes.

"I asked," Voldemort hissed, "if it was safe?"

"My, my Lord." In contrast to Lucius' typically calm-and-collected, sweat was racing down his forehead as he clenched his wife's shaking hand. "I swear to you, I thought you would want it to be used for revenge! It opened the Chamber of Secrets, multiple mudbloods were petrified-"

"Where is the diary?" Voldemort said in an escalating roar, inhaling deeply as he plucked his wand from the table. Both Malfoys flinched.

"Dum-Dumbledore-" Lucius whispered, but the Dark Lord had heard enough. In a moment, a spell rushed from his yew wand, and Malfoy's entire life lay spread out before him. He didn't bother being gentle about the Legilimancy–it was faster to tear the prized and inconsequential memories apart. All that mattered was the goal, the conquest! Was-ahh, at last. He slowed the spell at flashes of a battered diary and a, dirt and blood encrusted sock? Didn't matter, there it was: Potter fooling Malfoy into releasing his House-Elf, Malfoy's rage and attempt to curse the boy, and...

"_You threw it away?_" Voldemort stated slowly, his hushed English barely distinguishable from parseltongue as pure anger bubbled beneath his words. "I entrusted you with one thing, and you, you fool, you couldn't even handle that! You are worthless."

The Dark Lord stood swiftly, rage rolling off in waves. Lucius had long since given up explaining, and merely opened and shut his mouth as he stared horrified at his master.

"Pray I eventually let you be killed." Voldemort spat, before viciously flicking his wand. "_CRUCIO!_"

Lucius seized onto the floor, his tortured screams intermingling with Narcissa Malfoy's terrified cries. The closest Death Eaters scooted away, as though the curse and Voldemort's anger was contagious. One or two hesitated, but only Narcissa nealt to try and help her husband. Yet this was fruitless, for her arms flung wildly around, and her breaths coming in short gasps, as her wand lay useless on the table.

Paying no mind to what was happening behind him, the Dark Lord swept from the room, Nagini at his heels. For at least one horcrux was gone, stabbed through the middle with a giant fang. His old basilisk's, most likely. But even worse, the diary had practically fallen into Dumbledore's lap! Of course the old man would recognise it for what it truly was, and likely guess that it was not his only soul fragment. Dumbledore had thus known of the soul pieces' existence for at least three years, and must have been trying to hunt them down for at least as long.

Voldemort tried to calm himself as he apparated with Nagini alongside to a small, sleepy hamlet village. This was likely unneeded for his horcruxes were, after all, well-hidden. Just because Malfoy was an idiot did not mean that Dumbledore had found any others. But with Harry Potter possibly having access to his memories...

* * *

_"How could Lord Voldemort not have known, if he, himself, most important and precious, had been attacked, mutilated? ... No, surely, the rest were safe ... The other Horcruxes must be intact ... A modicum of calm cooled his rage now ... The ring, surely, was safe. And [who could] know about the cave or penetrate its protection? The idea of the locket being stolen was absurd ... As for the school: He alone knew where in Hogwarts he had stowed the Horcrux, because he alone had plumed the deepest secrets of that place ... But to be sure, to be utterly sure …_

_"Which should he visit first, which was in most danger? ... Dumbledore had known his middle name ... Dumbledore might have made the connection with the Gaunts ... Their abandoned home was, perhaps, the least secure of his hiding places, it was there that he would go … The lake, surely impossible ... though was there a slight possibility that Dumbledore might have known some of his past misdeeds, through the orphanage. And Hogwarts ..." (From "Deathly Hallows", pgs. 550-551)_

* * *

...but no, not Hogwarts, never Hogwarts. For who would search through the piles of rubbish and find a diadem thought to be mythical, lost for centuries? It, at least, was safe.

Besides, Dumbledore would never expect a horcrux to be right under his nose. Under his own protection! Yes, if there was nothing amiss with the ring, there would no need to visit Hogwarts. Bellatrix Lestrange's assurances that the cup had not been moved would also be enough, for Voldemort would not risk breaking into Gringotts when his return was still secret from the world.

He would check on the ring, for that was the one connection which there was any hope of Dumbledore tracing. If it was untouched at the Gaunt's filthy shack, then there could be nothing amiss–apart from Lucius Malfoy's loyalty, or basic common sense. A deep Legilimacy could answer that question once and for all.

But dealing with Malfoy would have to wait. As would Voldemort's musings on the infernal Prophecy and the dilemma concerning the Department of Mysteries.

Blinking as his eyes adjusted to the moonless night, the Dark Lord forced these thoughts aside. He could just discern enough of the tangled trees around him to know he had apparated to the right place.

The air practically reeked of musk. Criss-crossing vines and creaking, dead branches whispered soft hisses into the forest. If not for Nagini lifting herself up onto a grizzled trunk to join in the song, Voldemort would have assumed that his imagination had run away from him. As it was, none of the sounds were discernible as words. Yet the meaning hardly mattered. It was the presence, the almost tangible pulse of power that captured his attention. Of Slytherin's serpent legacy and of the darkest magic known to wizard kind: wrapped up in one small, innocuous ring.

To anyone else, this presence in the air would have been smothering. To Voldemort, it was invigorating.

He swept his way towards the barely-there clearing. Time did not seem to have touched the shack. Not that the hovel was in pristine condition, but the elements had besieged it long before Tom Riddle had ever strayed here in search of Marvolo Gaunt. The Gaunt shack thus remained identical to how he had first encountered it: the wooden walls were more moss and dirt, the ceiling had sparse shingles around the holes, and the windows' glass only existed in sharp little stabs at the edges.

It was a wonder that Little Hangleton had not bulldozed the place. The city council had indeed looked into it, but they had been hesitant to approach this area of the forest while the Gaunts were alive. Once the family was gone, the plans for destruction had begun to go forward–before, at least, it came to serve as the hiding place for a little ring. As it was, further demolition schemes seemed to magically slip from the bureaucrats' minds.

Voldemort took a moment to trace the nail mark in the door. The shadow of curling blood where the dead snake had once hung was still faintly visible. But this macabre detail was nothing compared to the dark magic which was palpable even at this distance. This smouldering power served to cool the Dark Lord's fears. Everything was fine, the ring was here. He was in no hurry and thus could languish in his memories.

Nagini hissed, and Voldemort chuckled humourlessly. It seemed she wished to mark Slytherin's territory as her own, and took offence at the lingering stench of the serpent long banished.

_"It iss gone, my pet."_ The wizard hissed, opening the door. _"They are all gone. They were weak, and fell to my ssstrength."_

_"Yesss,"_ Nagini answered, her tongue lapping at the handle as she slithered inside, _"but the sssmell-it remainss. More pungent than thossse mudpeople."_

Voldemort paused at his familiar's words. Perhaps if nothing was misplaced, they would make a short detour to Little Hangleton before returning. It had been quite a while since Nagini had managed to eat her fill.

He made his way into the deteriorated house and flicked his wand. For a moment, there was only the barely discernible creak and moan, before the rotten central floorboards gave way with a heave. Wooden planks and splinters burst into the air, freezing at eye level as a hushed calm lapped over the room. Nagini curled her body around the debris, ignoring the golden box peeking out from the earthen shaft.

Another wave of the yew wand, and the box floated out, leaving the hole bare for all but flecks of spiders and insects. Voldemort leaned his hand forward, and the top sprung open before his fingers brushed the container. A breath of the familiar magic was all it took to assure him, beyond all lingering doubts, that the ring was indeed safe.

Voldemort gently took the metal and stone from the box. It was not the powerful confounding and compulsion enchantments effecting him, for of course they could not. Yet the urge to feel the warming magic within his grip was almost as all-encompassing than any spell. Still, he was quite safe from the ring.

Lord Voldemort rolled the object around his palm, a single skeleton finger guiding the way. He felt the power etch into his skin as the exhilarating sensation of dark magic swept through him. He exhaled the breath he had not realised he had been holding. The rage-filled air around him faded with the reassurance of the solid stone in his hand, and the knowledge that nothing, indeed, was wrong. For here was proof that the 'Great Albus Dumbledore' remained ignorant about his enemies' horcruxes–or at least, where to find them.

Malfoy would still be punished for his foolish mistake, but that went without saying. And one more horcrux would have to be created. But there still remained the first issue that had come to Voldemort's attention: which ignorant, idiotic soul had dared attack his mind?

The Dark Lord's hand clenched around the ring in anger. An attack made no sense. He was Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard of the age! No one could match him, no one could even come close to his abilities. The Ministry was filled with fools, and Dumbledore was blind enough to not recognise the darkest of magics when it fell right before him.

Voldemort had stretched magic farther than anyone could dream, had _ever_ dreamed. Farther than Dumbledore, farther than Salazar Slytherin, farther even than Merlin himself! Creating just one horcrux was unheard of; seven was deemed impossible. He had come back from death, from certain defeat, from the merest of shadows which was less than even a ghostly impression. No Albus Dumbledore, and certainly no little boy could hope to match him.

Still. There was this matter of Harry Potter, who was too much of a riddle for Lord Voldemort's liking. The so-called 'boy-who-lived' would be killed for that fact alone, not to mention his lengthy list of other offences. Yet what was so unsettling about the brat was, indeed, his inability to die. If Voldemort did not know better, he would have thought that the boy was the one with horcruxes-

The Dark Lord froze. Unclenching his fist, he stared at the stone in concentration. An epiphany began unravelling as streams of memories wove into a clear picture. Perhaps he was looking at this problem from the wrong angle; perhaps, just perhaps, he was viewing this puzzle in reverse.

Ever since he was a student Tom Riddle had been hailed as brilliant, a prodigy–and for good reason. But his true genius rested in intuition rather than simple intellect: his sudden bursts of inspiration instantly connected formerly nonsensical pieces of a puzzle together into coherence. While others would view his rapid conclusions as 'wild theories', time would again and again prove him right.

Unsurprisingly though ironically, the boy-who-lived shared this useful trait.

Voldemort remained unaware of this similarity, but that hardly mattered. His thoughts were already racing as he felt this irritating riddle come to an end: two wizards death never managed to touch ... a failed _avada kedavra_ ... the splintering of his soul ... 'blood of the enemy, forcibly taken' ... a Legilimancy attack which was not an attack ... a mental connection of some sort ... seven horcruxes––only one conclusion existed.

A victorious grin split Lord Voldemort's face.

My, my. This _was_ something he would have to look into.

The Dark Lord spun the Gaunt ring between his fingers, and began to laugh. And laugh and laugh and laugh in a cruel, piercing shriek which echoed throughout the bristled woods surrounding the ramshackle house.

A country away, Harry Potter awoke with a start.

* * *

**A/N:** *cue ominous background music*

Who knew writing a megalomaniac could be so entertaining? And dudes, I have an idea for _the_ single most angsty horcrux ever! Maybe even more melodramatic than Harry's scar! And it actually kind of makes sense! BWAHAHAH!

Err, sorry about that. But this is what happens when I write fanfiction while having lunch at The Elephant House (you know, the fake birthplace of HP). Assuming that waving my spoon and shouting spells would be a big no-no, I consoled myself by writing a few angsty chapters.

Anywho, did Voldy ever figure out that Malfoy gave away his diary? One reviewer mentioned that Nagini might have been made into a horcrux _because_ Voldy found out about the diary. Which is probably totally correct, but I still can't imagine Malfoy escaping the aftermath of that particular revelation.


	12. Visions and Vexations

**General Disclaimer:** The HP books were megasuperfoxyawesomehot, and would have reached the coveted ten if only they hadn't been a children's series. If Rowling hadn't been concerned about not scarring little kids for life, Harry would have been a basketcase (Hello, abuse and death defying stunts?)–not to even mention the abounding angst and breakdowns amongst the other characters. And if Harry had been influenced by the horcrux there could have been an amazing literary analysis on the lack of distinction between hero and villain! That's why I couldn't be Rowling. My _Deathly Hallows_ would have made _Hamlet_'s finale look like an optimistic, light-hearted tale.

* * *

_A country away, Harry Potter awoke with a start._

* * *

What first came was a roll of nausea as it felt like a snake uncurled in Harry's stomach. It was likely his half-asleep state that prevented the queasiness from becoming anything more. Swiping at his still-closed eyes, he ignored his prickling scar and tried to recall what had woken him up. Was it just the sick feeling? Had someone been snoring? Did Hedwig get into the dorm again? Was it-he swiftly opened his eyes.

The time travellers. Right.

Harry closed his eyes again, determined to not think about that. Or to dwell on his friends' confrontation about the Dursleys. The Weasleys had been set to race off to Privet Drive, and Hermione–the typically cool, rational one–had been the worst of the lot. It was nothing short of a miracle he had managed to calm them down, but he suspected that they'd continue treating him like one jelly-legs jinx could finish him off. After four years of perilous adventures, shouldn't they know he wasn't made of glass? Merlin, all these things at once was almost as unsettling as another Voldemort plot...

His sudden jolt upwards was reminiscent of Ron spotting a phantom spider on his bedspread Wildly reopening his eyes, the Gryffindor swept his gaze around him in a panic. Voldemort–something about Voldemort. It wasn't only the thought of the time travellers and of his friends' pitying looks that had woken him. It was something, something to do with Tom Riddle-with a dream-a nightmare-damnit, that was it. That was why he felt sick and his scar hurt!

Forcing himself to relax, Harry took a few unsteady breaths. No, there was no way Voldemort could actually be in the dorm. With Dumbledore here he couldn't have gotten in, the castle was safe. Absolutely secure. So it was a dream, but like the one he had had before fourth year.

Harry roughly clenched his eyelids shut to try and bring the fading vision back. There had been a mention of objects. Voldemort had been angry–very angry. Unbidden, he slightly trembled as the word _crucio_ floated to the edge of his consciousness. Someone had been tortured, someone who had failed a task. A Death Eater?

Leaning forward and gripping his hair in his hands, the boy-who-lived tried in vain to remember the rapidly scattering images. _Seven_ objects, one of them being a diary. 'That was it!' He reopened his eyes with a snap. 'Voldemort had been angry at Malfoy about the diary.'

The Gryffindor absently rubbed his head and lay back down, glad to have worked out at least part of the dream. But, but why would Voldemort care that the diary had been stabbed? It had been used to open the Chamber of Secrets and petrify muggleborn students, surely he would have been pleased about that. Maybe it was because of the seven things–Harry's knuckles grew white as he pushed them against his forehead, struggling, struggling to remember–with the diary gone, there would be only six. And there was something special about seven, something crucial, so Voldemort wanted to make another.

A blurry image of a ring formed in his thoughts, and a whisper of Voldemort planning to kill...

Harry once more abruptly sat up in bed, hands numbly falling to his sides. '...to kill me...' repeated over and over in his head, reverberating with deja vu. Strangely, or maybe not so much, he greeted this information with tiredness rather than horror. Being threatened with death was nothing new, and the boy-who-lived found himself being more apprehensive about the dream itself.

Harry kneaded his prickling scar with his thumb. This was similar to the odd pain which he had felt when the time travellers appeared. Instead of feeling like his scar was on fire like usual, this pain pierced as though something was trying to burst from his forehead. He gulped, and tried to banish this less-than-pleasant thought. He sat still for a few minutes, waiting until–with a vast feeling of relief–the pain subsided into the usual prickling.

Drawing the curtains back and standing up from his bed, Harry slowly walked over to the window. He reached his arm out to pour come water, but stopped. His hand was shaking.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to forget the water. He glanced out the glass towards the Forbidden Forest, but seeing only the night's blackness did nothing to calm his thoughts. Pacing about the room also failed to help, nor did his musings about if he should tell the Headmaster about the vision. Dumbledore was still avoiding looking at him, even with the time travellers' arrival. So who else could he tell? Sirius would just overreact, and might be so desperate to escape from Grimmauld Place that he'd come bursting into Hogwarts. Lupin and McGonagall were out, for he didn't have any concrete information to tell them. What about his older self?

Without pause, Harry discarded the thought. No, he didn't want to deal with that mess anytime soon. Besides, if the information was anything important, wouldn't the time traveller already know? But maybe, maybe he should mention it in passing, just to make sure.

After a few minutes of continued pacing, Harry returned to his four-poster bed. Laying back down, it was clear he wasn't going to remember anymore of the dream. He couldn't help but feel like he had failed. But now that the adrenaline of the nightmare had worn off, the exhaustion came back to him swiftly. For between the dream and, before that, having been kept awake with his thoughts and anxieties concerning the Dursleys and the time travellers, he guessed he had only gotten an hour or two of sleep. He glanced at his watch on the bedside cabinet, before remembering he had never gotten the thing fixed after the Second Task last year.

Oh well. He supposed it was around four in the morning. Shutting his eyes, he was determined to at least try and get some more sleep. But his traitorous thoughts wouldn't stop racing.

Harry rolled over, absently considering sending a silencing spell at Ron's bed. He thought about this for a few seconds, but dismissed the idea. He didn't particularly feel like getting up again, and fetching his wand from his trunk was less than appealing at the moment. Besides, Ron's heavy snoring was not the reason for his insomnia tonight.

He rolled over again, staring at the ceiling without really seeing it. Though he felt his body's tiredness, his mind clearly hadn't received the message. Thoughts went whizzing by each other in such a dizzying, swirling mess that he found himself wishing that Hermione could organise them. Explain the half-baked notions and worries which refused to settle down.

'No.' Harry mentally corrected himself. What he most wanted was normality, not Hermione's logic. No matter how amusing it would be if his inner logical side's voice sounded like his best female friend. He snorted, punching his pillow in the dark.

'Fine,' the Gryffindor admitted, 'normality and I don't mix. My life's so mad that a vision of Voldemort barely ranks among the craziest things in the past day.'

He sighed, his thoughts once more running into a dead end. Adjusting the blankets, he idly supposed that he'd even prefer the corridor dreams to this. At least there he had the chance of finally seeing what was behind the door. Some possibility of movement, of progress...

...in contrast to lying awake in the early morning, fretting about situations which were far beyond his control.

Harry closed his eyes. He knew he should be happy–that he now had proof his life was eventually going to be a bright one, free of Voldemort and full of family–but he had never been good at doing what he was supposed to. For instead of pleasant thoughts of the future, he couldn't help but replay what had happened when he had finally believed the time travellers' story the past evening:

* * *

_"Oh Merlin, I'm an idiot." Older Harry raised his wand, and while a few of the teachers made slight movements of protest, they stopped when it became clear that he was aiming away from the students._

_"Expecto patronum!"_

_A bright silver stag burst forth and raced on air, spiralling gracefully across the room. While an impressive show of magic would usually bring forth gasps or awed sighs, the Great Hall remained peculiarly silent as the patronus returned to Older Harry before disappearing into whiffs of smoke. Whispers broke out at the end, rippling around the tables like lapping waves._

_Ron's wand arm finally dropped to his side, and he joined Hermione in staring at the new group in wonder. Yet, the moment dragged on as Younger Harry felt his emotions transform from suspicion, to shock, to absolute horror._

_"Do you believe me?" Older Harry asked with a furrowed brow._

_But the boy-who-lived couldn't bring himself to lower his wand. He was practically convinced, for how could he not be after that? Even though this situation was strange, it wasn't anything more surprising than other advanced magic. And it wasn't as though he had never travelled through time before._

_Teenage Harry couldn't pin down why he kept his wand raised. His mind was simply in a blur of numbing pain and buzzing thoughts. But then, as the Great Hall stared at his frozen features, the reason for his stubborn disbelief hit him like a rampaging hippogriff._

_He had survived._

_It wasn't the time travel or the knowledge about his past which was so shocking. It dawned on Harry that, for who knows how long, he hadn't actually expected to see adulthood._

_No wonder a middle-aged Harry Potter with children of his own was surprising. [Outtake from Ch.4: Interrogations and Introductions]_

* * *

'How messed up am I?' Harry asked himself angrily, beating his pillow in annoyance. There was a particularly loud snore from the other side of the room. 'Being shocked when your bloody older self comes back in time is normal, but what sort of rubbish is it to be shocked to _have_ a future! These blasted visions aren't helping.'

Harry gave up fingering his blanket and thrust it away from him. Unpleasant self-realisations aside, he wasn't wholly dwelling on the time travel itself. Sure, it was surprising, but ever since Hagrid had given Dud a pig's tail Harry had had trouble disbelieving in anything. Even before finding out he was a wizard, he had taken his accidental magic and bursts of Parseltongue as being odd but not wholly impossible.

So time travel? Harry could accept that. It was the image of future events that he couldn't get his mind around. Or rather, that it was a singular future which was already fully planned out: he would marry Ginny, have three kids, and become a godfather and auror. While Harry didn't entirely mind this picture, he was less than thrilled that his choices had been taken away. It all seemed inevitable; fated, like Trelawney's one truthful Prophecy. And there was abso-bloody-lutely nothing he could do to change it, any of it! He _would_ be a leading figure in the war; in the next twenty-four years he would gain even more scars. The worst part was knowing exactly which seemingly innocuous expressions would one day bring a shadowed, haunted look to his expression.

Harry burrowed his head in the pillow. Voldemort and Death Eater problems aside, apparently he was going to fall in love with his best friend's kid sister. What if Ginny expected to start dating him now? He couldn't do that, it wouldn't be fair to either of them. They barely even knew each other, and would just be getting together because they were 'supposed' to!

He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself. After all, he was getting worked up over nothing. Ginny was dating Michael Corner, and no one would care that he still liked Cho. Ron would just be relieved, and his–future kids–would probably find the entire thing funny. Besides, once the time travellers left they would all be obliviated, and none of this would matter.

As Harry at last lost himself in exhaustion, he sleepily mused that the memory erasing couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

**A/N:** My reasoning behind Harry's melodramatic angst? He was orphaned, neglected/abused for ten years, and then thrust into a cascade of pressing rumours/bullying from most of Wizarding Britain. Throw in frequent 'should-be-fatal' situations where he survived by pure chance (...and because of Voldy's fondness of monologuing) and, yeah, in his shoes I'd definitely have low self-esteem, a lack of self-preservation, and doubt my ability to reach adulthood. Or maybe I'd just wonder if my animagus form was a phoenix, a cockroach, or a cat on its ninth life.

Also, I would hate to know what was going to happen to me in twenty years. I don't care if that future has me finding my soul mate and becoming a best-selling author: if it happens, wonderful, but I _like_ my ability to have a choice in my life's course. Predestined fate? Ugh, can't stand it. See, I just don't get those otherwise amazing time travel fics that have Harry and Ginny instantly fall in love because they're _supposed_ to. Ginny I can understand, seeing as she never fully gave up her crush, but Harry? Up until his fifth year he had only noticed the youngest Weasley when she was the damsel in distress. I don't mind writing H/G, but only when their love is preceded by genuine friendship.

Thus, my boy-who-lived is going to be a tad rebellious. Too bad it's Harry Freakin' Potter, which means that the inevitable implosion will create all sorts of lovely carnage...


	13. Ravenclaws and Relationships

**A/N: 100+ REVIEWS! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! *tackles reviewers w/a bear hug* You guys are totally awesome. Forget about Dumbles–Waytomuchadoaboutnothing, FutureAuthoress176, Jessica682, harryginny9, Dimcairien, Isilarma, Sabina11, brilliant incandescence, Winged Quill, Rebecca Calzone, frozenteardrop13, LittleMissMoonbeam, Skylar of Hufflepuff, Disney-Princess-In-Disguise, Maskyourdreams, and Bookwormlovesharrypotter are the smartest, most awesomest, practical, beautiful wizards and witches in the whole world :D**

**General Disclaimer: All of the charries and some bits of the dialogue (of this chapter) are Rowling's (From _OTP_, Ch.12: Professor Umbridge). I'm blaspheming canon's plot and turning this particular scene on it's head, so I'd say I'm not her. Plus, getting technical, the vast majority of this fic is _not_ a limited third-person point of view centring around Harry J. Potter. So, that might give you another clue.**

* * *

"_Finally_ we have a hot teacher." Marietta Edgecombe absently buttered her toast, staring transfixed at the Staff Table. "But wasn't his hair blonde yesterday?"

"Hmm?" Cho Chang muttered, her own gaze fixed on the Gryffindors.

Marietta looked at her friend in surprise. "Professor London. He's no Lockhart, of course, but still very snogable."

"Oh." Cho didn't move her stare away. "That's nice."

Marietta shook her head at Cho's obvious distraction. "Please tell me you aren't staring at him. Again."

"Who?"

"Who? Who!" Marietta groaned. "I wonder. It's not as though you've been obsessing over him the entire summer, driving your best friend batty in the process."

Cho loved Marietta, she really did. But couldn't she stop talking for a few seconds? It was impossible to focus on a certain dark-haired boy with all her distractions. The aforementioned Gryffindor was speaking to Angelina Johnson about something surely Quidditch related, if she recognised the glow in his face. He turned back to talking to his friends, but today this included the new students, Ginny Weasley, and Neville Longbottom. Luna Lovegood might have been in the group as well, since she was sitting next to them at the Gryffindor Table, but from her far-off expression it was possible she had just wandered over there.

Cho narrowed her eyes as the Weasley girl kept nervously glancing at Harry, but was at least pleased that he seemed to be staring at everything in the Hall except for the redhead.

"Dear Marietta, I'm so confused!" Marietta adopted a Scottish, high-pitched accent as the clouds of post owls swept into the Great Hall. "I know I shouldn't move on so quickly, but I can't stop thinking about him. Dear Marietta, you don't think he's dating Hermione Granger, right? Dear Marietta, can your mum set up an illegal floo connection so I can stalk the dreamy Harry Potter?"

"I never wrote that!" Cho exclaimed, finally wrenching her gaze off of the boy-who-lived and ducking away from a tawny owl with diving issues. "And my voice isn't that high."

"So you aren't denying you want to stalk him?" She replied cheekily.

"Merlin, Marietta." Cho moaned. "Would I tease you about a crush?"

Her friend looked at her oddly. "Yes. Yes, you would. Yesterday on the train, you kept piping in with sexual immuendos whenever George talked to me!"

"I think you would be a cute couple. Besides, George was oblivious to it. He thought Fred and Lee were batty for 'randomly' bursting out laughing." Cho said, returning to her Harry-Potter-watching. She smirked as the youngest Weasley left the Gryffindor Table alone just as her twin brothers walked up to the group. "Although, maybe now I should tell those jokes to a certain cute Professor?"

'Please please please,' Cho thought as Marietta blushed, 'get annoyed, go back to drooling over a teacher, and leave me alone.'

"What do you even see in that Gryffindor?" Marietta scowled, glancing over at the boy-who-lived and his friends just as one of the new kids–James Parker?–paused to talk to the twins before racing from the Great Hall.

Cho mentally groaned. This wasn't the sort of 'annoyed' she had been hoping for. "Harry's good looking, incredibly nice, and a Quidditch star. He's a bloody hero, for Merlin's sake!" There was a slight bite in her tone. "Half of Hogwarts has had a crush on him at some point."

"But he's so scrawny!" Marietta wrinkled her nose. "Anyway, he's probably lying about all those things he's done. Who does he think he's kidding? Like You Know Who could be back. I bet he was the one who actually killed-"

"_Don't_ finish that sentence." Cho abruptly gritted out.

Marietta paused, mouth open, realising she had gone too far. "Cho, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mention Cedric."

"Just stop," she sighed, wishing the other girl would understand. Or maybe disapparate. "I know you don't like or believe Harry. But I do, so leave this alone."

"Okay, okay." Marietta backed off.

Cho returned her gaze to the Gryffindor Table just as Harry jumped out of his seat, glaring angrily at Ron. It seemed Granger was trying to calm them down, but Harry just grabbed his bag and stormed away. Sensing her chance, Cho quickly leaned over for her bag as well, and didn't stop rising even when she noticed the other two of the Golden Trio were almost at his heels.

As Granger's foot disappeared from the doorway, Cho raced away from the table. She ignored Marietta's shouts behind her, and almost collided into a likewise running Michael Corner as she hurried to catch up. But, she wasn't sure what she would do. After all, she had wanted to catch Harry alone, but maybe she could talk to him away from his friends?

Snippets of the conversation fell back to her as she flew up the last few steps and skittered down the first hallway:

"-don't see what the problem is-" Ron grunted.

"I'm not trying to hurt her! It's just-" Harry's annoyed voice cut off.

"Calm down, both of you!" Granger, per usual, was trying to be the voice of reason. "Ron, it's his decision. But Harry, you're lucky Al and Lily didn't hear. Make sure you don't say anything like that around Ginny! Merlin, you can be such a, such a _boy_ sometimes!"

The Trio stopped walking to rant at each other, and Cho ducked into a corner to catch her breath. Granger was bad enough, but Ginny Weasley? The Ravenclaw didn't like the sound of that. She hadn't thought that the fangirl was even friends with Harry–although, he was so close to the Weasley family that it would make sense. At least it sounded as though whatever Harry had said would have hurt the girl.

Cho caught her smug smirk just in time. She shook her head, not believing that she had just wished that Harry had insulted Weas-Ginny. It was so mean, not like her at all. If the girl had a crush on Harry, that just meant she had good taste. There was no need to be jealous.

Still, guilt over one nasty thought was no reason to stop trying to get Harry. She peered around the corner at the Trio, who was still standing still and arguing in the mainly empty corridor. Stealing her nerves, she stepped out from behind the bricks and walked towards the Gryffindors.

Ron was spluttering something. "-not pessimistic, Hermione. He's an unbelievable git who-"

"Hello, Harry!" Cho said brightly. Ron only scowled, Hermione managed a weak greeting. She felt her nerves decrease when Harry's annoyed look transformed into a sheepish grin.

"Hi," said Harry. Cho's nerves decreased even further as she saw a red flush creep up his cheeks. It made a very nice contrast with his emerald green eyes. Not to mention those high cheekbones which she was pleased to note weren't still covered with that gunk from the train.

"You got that stuff off, then?" She froze at her words, wondering what the gabbling goblins had possessed her to say that. It was so inconsiderate! So rude! So-

Ron snorted, still annoyed at something. Harry looked at Cho in confusion, as though he couldn't recall what she was talking about. She wasn't sure whether to be happy or concerned by his lack of short term memory. A light finally went off.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah." Harry said hurriedly. "The stinksap's gone. So ah, did you...have a nice summer?"

Cho felt herself twitch slightly, and it was Harry's turn to freeze in horror. This, more than anything, brought her back to reality. 'Stop thinking about Cedric!' She quickly berated herself. 'Harry didn't mean to bring it up–just don't think about it!'

"Oh, it was all right, you know..." she said finally, glad she hadn't stammered.

"Is that a Tornados badge?" Ron rammed out, pointing to Cho's chest. She looked down, her feelings lightening at seeing the light blue and metallic badge her mum had gotten her two years ago. "You don't support them, do you?"

She felt a spike of irritation. Just because he was annoyed was no reason to take it out on her, and no reason to interrupt her conversation with Harry. "Yes, I do." She said firmly, clutching the badge.

"Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?" Weasley continued, and Cho couldn't help but stare coldly at the accusatory slant of his words. At least Harry and Granger looked like they were itching to hex the stupid prat.

"I've supported them since I was six," said Cho frostily. "Anyway... see you, Harry."

With a hint of sadness, she started to walk away. Until...

"Wait, Cho!" Harry caught up with her, a sheepish expression on his face as he turned back from glaring at his friend. "I'm sorry about Ron. He gets worked up when it comes to Quidditch."

"Don't we all." Cho couldn't hold in her grin. "I get fairly obsessive too, so don't worry about it." She noticed that both Ron and Hermione were frowning at them–like they were doing something which they shouldn't do, rather than just having a conversation.

"Iloveyourflying." Harry blurted out, the uncertain expression still on his face. "I–I mean, I think you're a great seeker. I was wondering if you'd like to fly with me? Sometime, you know, whenever. Doesn't matter but, maybe on Saturday?"

"I'd love to!" Cho knew she was glowing, and didn't care. Harry Potter liked her flying! _Harry still liked her!_ "But if we're going to play, we'll need a handicap for the youngest seeker in a century."

Harry breathed out in relief, before looking at her in confusion. "A handicap?"

"I'm good, but you're unbelievable!" Cho said slowly, enjoying flirting with the oblivious Gryffindor. "So why not make it interesting and even the odds?"

"Uh huh. What do you have in mind?" He asked, still red but quirking an eyebrow. She liked the look on him.

"I'll think of something." Cho said airily, turning to walk off to Transfiguration. "Wait, Harry?" She called out behind her.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think about flying blindfolded?" She turned back just in time to catch Harry blanch and his best friends transfer from angry whispering to sniggers. "See you Saturday!"

* * *

"GIIIINNNNNEEEEVVVRRRRAAAAA!"

The youngest Weasley gave a start at the shout behind her. Pounding footsteps came to an end as James came to a sliding halt, catching himself just before smashing into her.

"Hey-wait, hold on a sec. You, you're too fast." He said with a smile, panting slightly, looping his arm around the flabbergasted Ginny's and steering them towards the Grand Staircase. He glanced around at the few other students heading early to class. "I'm James Parker, not sure if you caught my name at breakfast. You're _Ginevra_ Weasley, right? The Twins and Ron's sister? Hermione said you were in the same classes as me."

Ginny's thoughts finally caught up to the spectacularly insane facts behind the situation, but her mouth continued hanging open as they began climbing. Oh bloody hell, James was a fourth year as well–this was the last thing she needed. And he, he had called her _that_ name–how dare he!

James smirked at his young mum's expression, and Ginny supposed he was particularly amused because he could tease her without grounding repercussions. But her shock was finally waning, and she began to evaluate the pros versus cons of bat-boogie hexing her future kid.

"Oi, Ginny!" Another voice called out, and suddenly her other arm was occupied by another boy who had just pantingly raced from the Great Hall.

And ... Ginny's shock instantly returned.

"Christ, you can be fast. Wha-" Michael Corner's eyes narrowed as he took in the boy on her other side, "-who are you, and why is your arm linked with my girlfriend's?"

James arm dropped to his side, but that likely had more to do with complete stupefaction than any actual desire to do what the older boy wanted. "Gi-girlfriend?"

"Who are you?" Michael asked snidely, pulling Ginny slightly closer to him.

"James Parker." He clenched his hands into fists. "I'm a new student. Didn't realise Ginevra had a boyfriend."

"Thought you'd stroll in here and take someone's bird?" Michael's rant ended in a yelp as he doubled over from being kneed. "Merlin! Gin, sorry, I won't call you that again!"

Ginny pulled away from her boyfriend and stared at him stonily, though internally grateful to feel her shock ebb away. "Good to hear. Don't be such a possessive prat, I was only showing James around. Who _shouldn't_ call me by my first name, if he doesn't want me to turn him into a dancing pineapple." She sent a glare at James' chagrined half-smile.

Michael straightened, looking at her suspiciously. "So there's nothing going on?"

Both redheads suppressed a shudder, inappropriate and entirely unwelcome images racing through their heads.

"_No_." Ginny said bluntly, swinging her pack higher on her shoulder. They stepped off the stairway onto a corridor, deserted except for two approaching figures. "Why are guys also so jealous? Michael, James only arrived yesterday."

Michael didn't say anything in reply, but she could tell he wasn't convinced. He addressed a still-stormy James. "Sorry, _mate_. Didn't mean anything by it. How about I help show you around now with Ginny? Get to know you?"

"Michael!" His girlfriend huffed, tugging James forward. "You're a fifth year, you have different classes than us. For a Ravenclaw you can be so dense."

Michael opened his mouth to angrily reply when all three froze at a sudden shout:

"POTTER DID WHAT!"

It was more snarl than scream, but Ginny had never heard Professor Snape sound more furious. The second voice from in front of them was far quieter, but she could just recognise the Headmaster's tone.

"Severus, please listen to-"

"LISTEN? LISTEN! I'VE HEARD ENOU-"

The Potion Master's furious rant was cut off by Dumbledore's quick silencing spell. Turning towards the three stunned students, the Headmaster gestured for them to keep coming down the corridor. They did so, very hesitantly. But Snape never noticed them as he continued silently venting his rage, looking an inch away from drawing his wand.

The Headmaster winked at the students as they passed, seeming to be very cheerful for someone who was being furiously yelled at. Suddenly, Ginny realised why Snape seemed ready to commit murder. Turning to James, she saw his furious expression become replaced with an amused smile as he watched the Professor's impression of a tomato. Said Professor turned from Dumbledore just in time to catch James' smirk.

Snape's jaw dropped open, and Ginny took advantage of his petrified shock to drag the grinning James and bewildered Michael towards the Charms classroom.

"Jamie, stop smirking." Ginny muttered as they left the two professors behind.

"Jamie?" Michael asked with a frown, looking behind his shoulder curiously. "Using nicknames already?"

"Shut it." James said simply, not even glancing at the other boy. "So, Ginevra-"

"Ginny." She said with a huff.

He smirked. "S'what I said. So, who was that teacher arguing with the Headmaster."

"The Potions Master, Severus Snape." Michael asked, his Ravenclaw tendencies overruling his jealous/possessive ones. "Hates Gryffindors–sorry Ginny–so you should have fun."

"No worries." James said airily, but with a steely undertone. "I'm sure he'll love me. I have a, gift, for potions."

That stopped Ginny in her tracks. "You do?" She said in surprise, thinking about both her's and Harry's abysmal skills in that class.

James gave a floppy grin. "Mum always said I got it from her brothers. Two of them are keen to experiment."

Ginny felt her stomach drop.

"Experiment?" She said weakly, recalling James' sudden friendship with Fred and George. "They wouldn't happen to be fiery experiments, right?"

He waved a hand nonchalantly. "Nah, I like things with a bit of a bang. Pyrotechnics are more Al's thing, and Lils covers everything else."

"I...see." She grabbed hold of her Gryffindor courage to keep from fainting dead away.

"I don't," Michael said bluntly, eyeing the other boy in suspicion. "You're talking nonsense. Gin, how do you know what he's going on about?"

"She knows because she's not an idiot, like some Eagles I could mention." James said slowly, a cold tone entering his voice. "It wasn't hard to follow at all. Oh, and only family can get away with calling her 'Gin', so if I were you I'd refrain from doing that."

"How do you even know about Eagles or Gin alre-ah, sorry Ginny."

Ginny glared at James for being moronic, but switched her irritated expression to Michael when he used the aforementioned nickname. "Both of you, be quiet. Michael, you have Herbology first, right? It's bound to start soon."

Her boyfriend hesitated. "But with this bloke-"

"James has Charms with me." Ginny answered simply as the corridor began to fill with students. "It's just down the hallway, I'm sure we'll be fine."

Michael was still hesitant to leave them alone, especially when he noticed the redhead boy's grin. But catching his girlfriend's expression, he decided it would be a smart move to head outside.

"Right, right–" Michael leaned in and kissed a fidgeting Ginny. James' smile slipped off his face; his new scowl could rival Ron's. "–we have to catch up, I want to hear all about your summer. Can you go flying with me on Saturday?"

"Sure, that sounds nice," she answered with a flush, pulling away from the Ravenclaw. "We can head down to the Pitch after lunch?"

"It's a date." Michael turned away and parodingly saluted the other boy. "James, nice to meet you."

James grunted in answer. As soon as Michael was around the corner, he grabbed Ginny's elbow and half-dragged her to the classroom.

"Hey!" She cried, quickly pulling out of the grip. "Aren't I supposed to be leading you?"

"Who was that?" James asked hurriedly, not caring about appearances.

Ginny opened the classroom door. "Michael Corner."

"Your boyfriend." He said bluntly, holding the Charms door and not stepping through.

Ginny's flush spread. "Yes, yes he is. And he's very nice, so don't listen to anything my brothers say."

"_I don't care if he's nice!_" James spluttered, before catching himself and looking around at a few congregating students' stares. "I mean, I don't care. Sure, I absolutely don't. Why in Merlin's name would I care that you have a boyfriend."

A student brushed by them as they both tried to make sense of the situation.

"Thanks. Hey Ginny." Colin Creevey stepped through the door that James still held open, before doing a double-take. "Oh, are you the new student? Nice to meet you, I'm Colin Creevey."

"James Parker." James shook his hand while still staring at the red Ginny in frustration. But then the name registered. "Wait, Creevey? Related to Dennis?"

Colin looked at him curiously. "Dennis is my brother. You've met him?"

Ginny groaned, and wondered how her older self had kept from hexing her tactless and thoughtless children–however much the idea of her having kids made her brain want to shut down and curl into a corner. First James talked about the future, then her nickname, before mentioning people he _shouldn't know_! At least he hadn't slipped and called her 'mum' yet. She suppressed a shiver at the thought.

James' eyes widened, realising his mistake. A few more people passed into the classroom as he quickly stumbled for an excuse. "I think Harry mentioned you and him? Yeah, when we were talking in the Great Hall."

"_Really_?" Colin asked breathlessly, his face lighting up as the three of them finally left the doorway. "Brilliant! This is so great! I-he mentioned Dennis and me? Blimey!"

Ginny wasn't sure if she should be relieved James had blindly stumbled on the right topic for his flimsy cover story, or if she should run in the opposite direction from Colin's fanatically revering speech. While James looked horrified at the monster he had created, Ginny made a mental note of this scene as containing potential for the future. Goodness knows that Harry would give her a fortune in Chocolate Frogs to refrain from setting Colin and the rest of the fan club on his track.

* * *

**A/n: This chapter is dedicated to my fellow lovely Ravenclaws in Edinburgh's HP Society:**

'**Ra Ra Ravenclaw, in smarts we can't be beat.**

**You keep your brawn, we'll be the brains**

**behind world domination and your defeat!'**

**I'm not a fan of Ginny/Michael, but I don't mind Harry/Cho. Yes, their timing in canon was dreadful, but what if they played around on the Quidditch Pitch for their date, rather than spending a Valentine's Day at Madam Puddifoot's? Would Cho still be a sobbing mess? Would it be disastrous? And, most importantly, can Harry fly and catch the snitch with his hands tied (perhaps literally) behind his back? But don't worry guys, I also don't mind Harry/Ginny. I guess we'll just have to see what happens!**

**Finally: I reallyreallyreally want to create random one-shots. Just mention in a review what HP scene has been nagging your mind and I'll try my hand at writing it! Think of this as an entirely free writing commission–plus, I might ram any particularly good scenes into this story. If you have a specific premise, or care whether I publish it here, awesome, let me know. But if not, just give me a setting, an object, and two characters. Think of it like that game Clue. Ex: It was Harry and Luna in the astronomy tower with a crystal ball (and they might or might not be ridding a certain boy-who-lived of a wrackspurt infestation)! See, doesn't that sound like fun?**

**Nothing _too_ explicit, please. I'm up for any genre, but I'm best at comedy or fluff for short scenes. Come on guys, wouldn't you like to see the story in your head laid out in actual words? Typed sentences on a lovely laminated computer screen? Course, that's assuming you like my writing. But since you've read seventeen chapters of this story...**


	14. Snape and Snark

**A/N: Waytomuchadoaboutnothing, why did you get rid of your PM? Ah well, I'll answer your review here: I'm sorry for the shippy cliffie! *hides* I'm not a big Harry/Cho supporter, but it just makes sense for the story at this point. I WILL tell you how this relationship mess ends if you'd like, but I'm not sure if you want the spoiler. Otherwise, thank you so much for all your reviews and compliments!**

**General Disclaimer: Lockhart had the right idea. An _obliviate_ (and tons of polyjuice potion) would be a simple and elegant way to take over J.K. Rowling's empire. BWAHAHA! - But no, really, I'm a muggle. No magic here, especially not the memory wiping kind. No siree bob.**

* * *

Al Pot–erm–_Parker_ was rarely anxious. Nervous, yes. Surprised, definitely. Flabbergasted, sometimes. With a family like his, you'd have to be insane not to.

But–he thought while tugging the protesting Lily down the steps–preparing to be taught by a dead man who'd surely curse him at first sight, was a _very_ good reason for him to be anxious. A very good time to panic, in fact.

Thank Merlin he was using his sister as a divergenary tactic.

"You owe me." Lily said sourly, stumbling after Al. "If you make me late for my actual class..."

"You won't be," Al panted out, coming to an abrupt halt and looking around the deserted dungeon for any sign of the Potions Master, "it's still really early. See, you're the only person in the family his portrait could stand, so you'll be my shield just until I can hide behind a cauldron."

"Excuse me, I'm a _protego_?" His sister asked with a raised eye, but some of the crossness had left her tone. "Anyway, I only met him the few times I came with dad to his guest defence lectures."

"Doesn't matter." Al started pacing anxiously. "Snape hates me without reason!"

"It's because you're usually identical to dad! At least now you have red hair."

"But Snape hates James even more than me!"

"Because Jamie was an idiot and almost blew up his portrait! Al, calm down, he's not going to poison you."

"How do you know!" Al frantically rifled his hair. "Maybe he'll hex me outright. Or make me drink an unfinished potion!"

"Or maybe, _Mr. Parker_..." a soft voice sneered from behind them, making both siblings jump, "he'd rather poison your imbecile of a father."

'Yeah, that's reassuring.' Al thought, but didn't dare say it aloud. Instead he merely gulped at Professor Snape's questioning scowl–an annoyed expression which pierced even more now that he was 3D, fully alive, and physically able to carry out his dire threats.

"Hi, I'm Al." Al said quickly, grabbing his squeaking sister and pulling her in-between him and the still sneering Professor. "I promise not to blow up any cauldrons, and I'm really a Slytherin, not a reckless hero like dad. But don't think about me, nope, nothing interesting here, not at all. Here's my sister Lily! Focus on her and don't kill me!"

With that last desperate spiel, Al grabbed his pack and hightailed it into the potions classroom.

Lily Parker and Severus Snape stared in amazed befuddlement as the door swung close. Not even the approaching thuds of other early students managed to break the stupefied silence.

"What. An. Idiot." Lily said finally.

"Indeed." Snape grimaced. "I suppose your other brother-"

"-is even worse." The youngest Parker made a face, before looking up at the Professor with a smile. "I guess the Headmaster told you about us? Teddy, my godbrother, is great though. And Al really isn't that bad. He won't admit it, but he's just anxious about this entire situation. He and I truly are Snakes–or I _will_ be, at least–so we'll probably murder James at some point for throwing us all back here. Or maybe just prank him into oblivion." Her face lit up, her eyes sparkling with possible traumatising ideas. Snape blinked, before shaking his head, trying to ignore the little girl's resemblance to another cheeky and glowing child.

"Indeed." He didn't bother trying to sound disapproving. "Lily, was it? Well, Miss. Parker, class is due to start in a few minutes. Do you know where you're going?"

Lily nodded as the few other appearing students stared in disbelief at Snape acting human. "Yep, Al pointed it out earlier. It was nice to meet you Professor."

"You as well, Miss. Parker." The surrounding students openly gaped as Snape almost smiled. "Rest assured, I will try not to lethally harm your brother this lesson. But do let me know if you require any aid in pranking _James_." He spat the name like a curse.

"Thanks sir!" Lily's broad grin frightened the watching Hogwartians even more. "I have a few ideas, but any help would be welcome." She turned to walk back down the corridor, before remembering something and twirling back around. "Can you not poison my dad though? Yeah, he's moody and overprotective, but he's _dad_."

Snape looked as though he had swallowed a lemon. "No promises, Miss. Parker. I will, however, attempt to cause no permanent damage."

The youngest Parker thought for a moment, realised that was the best she was going to get, and shrugged. "Thanks sir. But I really have to get to Transfiguration now!"

Lily raced off, her pack swinging over her shoulder, mentally going over her plan. She'd have to warn dad first thing, revenge plots for Jamie had to be put on the backburner. Maybe lulling her brother into a false sense of calm would actually be best: not even that observant prat would be able to see the prank war coming.

* * *

James was chatting with Ginny about something inconsequential as they headed to lunch, and was faintly surprised that the conversation came so easily. Sure, it might have had something to do with Colin piping in at every lull with an excited remark, but James was still amazed that his mum was so laid back. So _chill_.

Not that _Ginny_ wasn't chill in the future. With James' parents' willingness to turn a blind eye on much of their children's chaoticness, and being a world-famous hero and an ex-pro Quidditch chaser, their 'coolness factors' was remarkably high. His parents were loving (a bit _too_ loving, he thought with a grimace), and supported their kids. He couldn't even count the number of times his dad had given him the 'we-don't-expect-you-to-follow-in-our-footsteps-and-will-be-proud-of-you-no-matter-what' speech, but knew it had helped him a lot when entering Hogwarts.

James winced as a flashback to his Sorting came to his mind's eye, where the students had scrambled over each other to gawk and point at the newest Potter. Not that he minded fame. He loved attention if it was for something he had done, and not just been born into. His dad particularly understood this, and had thankfully always been especially lenient on his punishments to James and Fred for their pranks. But, he had a sneaky suspicion that his dad wasn't going to be so light on the grounding for his latest stunt–even though it was _completely_ accidental and not his fault at all. And even if it wasn't entirely accidental–though it was, definitely so–could anyone really blame him for being curious about his family's past? No, of course not.

Still, yes, James knew his parents were awesome–as far as parents went. For they were still adults, still sticklers for some rules, still overprotective, and still insistent on keeping the majority of their past secret from their kids. So his young mum acting like a kid was something he had never expected to see. Seeing her with a boyfriend who wasn't dad was nauseating, but it was still amazing to see her before the war. There was no scar on her cheek, she didn't have a quick wand draw, and she even seemed to be laughing more. Not to say she didn't laugh a lot back home, but James' entire family had a tendency to stop chuckling and look sad at the slightest mention of something completely innocuous. His dad was the worst, but his mum, Grandmum, Aunt Hermione, and Uncles Ron and George weren't far behind.

The difference in Ginny was almost as profound as seeing Uncle Fred and an un-holey Uncle George for the first time. So the change from this 'innocent' girl to his 'scary' mum? Absolutely barmy.

James shook his head, not really keeping up with Ginny's and Colin's conversation about their summers. It was nice to see his mum like this, but he wished that the same change had happened with his dad. To be fair, he hadn't really spoken much with his young dad yet, but he could already tell that the 'boy-who-lived' wasn't going to be an innocent kid like his young mum.

He brushed his hair back, lost in thought and not paying attention to where he was walking. Harry's suspicion about the time travellers had been hard to miss, but James could understand that. But James hadn't bargained on how quickly his young dad could draw his wand, with a dozen or so curses clearly on his lips. His dad at fifteen was _used_ to this. Was used to insane situations, was already scarred, had already almost been killed numerous times! And that was even without knowing the worst stories of his dad's teenage years, which everyone insisted on keeping hidden.

James breathed out slowly, and gave Ginny's questioning stare a small smirk. She probably thought he was just a prankster, so it wouldn't hurt to go with that for a bit. Not that he wasn't a prankster, or tended to speak the worst possible thing at the worst moments. But there was no need to talk to her about his observations or fears. No reason at all to ask out loud how far the time turner would have had to take them back to meet a Harry Potter who was an 'innocent kid'. With the way that James' great aunt and uncle were never mentioned by anyone, he really didn't want to dwell on that question.

So maybe it was ultimately a good thing that James, paying no attention to his surroundings as he turned the corner, let out a shriek as he almost slammed into someone.

Luna, rather that yell out in surprise, blinked owlishly at the three students as James clutched the wall to keep his balance. "Hello Ginny, Colin, James. Or is it Jamie?"

"Either." He said to his favourite aunt with a grin, his momentary shock fading away.

"That could get confusing." The blonde quirked her head to the side. "Oh! I did enjoy your father's lesson. Everyone even seems to prefer him to that nice Professor Lupin, though when Professor London was told that he started laughing. How strange."

Ginny, James, and Colin perked up with interest, pride and curiosity, respectively.

"You just had Har-Professor Parker?" Ginny asked.

Luna nodded. "Just now. He's a very good teacher, as is his godson. They demonstrated how to have a duel and there were quite a few spells they told us I hadn't heard of. Jamie, do you know if the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks gifted your father with the golden magic?"

James took her suggestion seriously, much to the amusement of the other two. He finally shrugged. "It's as good a suggestion as any. Wait, did he use it in class?"

"Yes, to clear the desks away."

To be clear, James had always held onto his Aunt Luna's every word even more so than his Aunt Hermione's. He had always loved Luna's stories, and had been mesmerised at the magical creatures she and her twins would show him whenever they got back from their latest adventure. He had never understood why others viewed her or her ideas as 'Loony', and was pretty sure they were just jealous of her genius.

Thus, the fact that he now looked at her incredulously was nothing short of impossible, and he was certain that the Wrackspurts were effecting his hearing. He wiggled his finger in his ear, but that failed to produce any change. "Sorry Luna, but are you sure you didn't see something else? Dad almost never uses that ability."

"No, I'm sure." Luna said in a simultaneously determined yet dreamy voice.

"But he never uses it except for emergencies!" James exclaimed, forgetting that Colin was still listening. "He just-" his sentence dwindled off as he spotted two very familiar people approaching.

"Off to lunch, then?" _Harry_ clapped his son on his shoulder. "How are you getting along? No problems with finding your way around?"

"Fine, dad." James reddened, hoping he hadn't heard the earlier conversation. "Luna was just telling us about your lesson, said it was brill."

Teddy gave Luna a grin. "Glad to hear it. Henry thought it'd be fun to start off with some practice duels..."

"Ted, that wasn't exactly my first idea." _Harry_ said with a smirk.

Godson gave godfather an incredulous look. "Yes, but your first idea was insane. So we're going to forget you ever mentioned it."

"What? I'll let you know my ideas are never insane," _Harry_ puffed up good-naturedly, ignoring Teddy's and James' snorts of disbelief, "and this one was particularly good. In fact, we should use it for the double lesson after lunch."

Teddy looked confused for a moment, before groaning. "The fifth year Gryffindors. Of course you would suggest that: are you really that reckless and crazy?

_Harry_ paused, his grin strengthening. "A little of both, I'd have to say."

"Do you want to be cursed?" The younger wizard asked. "After all, 'Harry Potter' will be in that class! Oh, but that's the point, isn't it?"

The older man waved off the comment. "The boy will know it's not a real Death Eater."

"I don't know," Teddy said with a bit of smugness, "I've heard he's pretty paranoid. Touched in the head, even. I mean, he thinks You Know Who is back!"

James and Ginny scowled, but it was Colin who piped up. "Harry's not crazy! If he says You Know Who's back, then he is! I don't care what the bloody Prophet writes! Oops," the Gryffindor paused, remembering who he was talking to, "sorry Professors."

But Professor Parker only chuckled. "Don't worry Mr..."

"Creevey, sir. Colin Creevey."

"Well, Mr. Creevey," James noticed a small shadow pass over his dad's face, "I might disagree with you, but it is good to see Houses beside Hufflepuff showing loyalty towards their friends. But I would run along now, lunch should begin soon. I just need a quick word with my son."

Ginny held back as Luna and Colin began to move forward. "I'll stay back, if it's all right. I've been showing James around."

"Right, bye Ginny. Nice to meet you James, and thanks Professor." Colin said with a bright grin, moving away with Luna.

As soon as the two students had turned their backs, James watched his dad's easy-going smile morph into a grimace. "Merlin, this is harder than I thought it would be."

"You're telling me." Teddy muttered, rubbing his eyes. "I almost started yelling at a Slytherin for spouting off about how deranged Harry Potter is."

_Harry_ merely groaned. "The Daily Prophet is the least of my worries."

"It can't be that bad, right?" Ginny said hesitantly. Despite the situation, James found it hilarious that any incarnation of his mum could be nervous talking to his dad. "People seem to be enjoying your lessons."

"That is something." _Harry_ shrugged, a slightly amused look breaking through his expression. "Though, I'm not sure which of us is the Professor and which is the Assistant. What with Ted here dictating what we can and can't teach..."

Teddy groaned, as though they had gone over this conversation numerous times before. "It's not about what we can't teach, it's about me stopping you from giving students heart attacks!"

"It's not that bad."

The metamorph looked at him in disbelief. "Maybe everyone is right–you're barmy. You actually want to do something that is sure to get you cursed."

"Pfft," _Harry_ said nonchalantly, "you're overreacting. 'Harry Potter' isn't that high-strung."

"Yeah, sure he isn't." Teddy rolled his eyes while the kids looked amused. "Just because you want to dress up and come bursting through the window-"

"Ted, it wouldn't be me doing that part." _Harry_ said, starting to grin. "You're my assistant, remember?"

Teddy could only gape at his godfather, until after a few moments his voice finally burst through. "NO! No way! Just because you're delusional about a certain someone's paranoia, doesn't mean he won't instantly curse me back through the window!"

"That wouldn't happen-" But _Harry_ cut himself off. Eyeing his reddening godson (firehouse red, since being a metamorphmagus did have its perks), he sent a _muffliato_ around their group just before the explosion:

"YOU THINK THAT NOTHING WOULD HAPPEN IF A FAKE DEATH EATER ATTACKED THE CLASS? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?"

"No, I haven't-"

"WELL, I DON'T WANT TO LOSE MY LIFE! OR PARTS OF ANATOMY!"

_Harry_ paused in thought. "I don't think my younger self knows any curses that could do the second thing. Except for _diffindo_ or _expulso_, I suppose."

"I wasn't talking about you!" Teddy blustered.

"Ah, Hermione then." James' dad continued in comprehension. "Okay, I can understand your hesitation. So it's a 'no' to the Death Eater idea?"

Teddy eyed _Harry_ incredulously. "What do you think?"

"Fine, fine. I have a good back-up plan."

"A back-up plan? What the bloody hell is wrong with using the lesson plan from this morning?"

_Harry_ eyed his godson in amusement. "Language, Teddy, language. And we didn't have a 'Boy Wonder' in the morning classes, now did we. If we're going to act incredulous towards his story..."

"You're going to test him?" Ginny squeaked out at the same time as James yelled, "You're going to be _against_ him?"

"We don't want the Slytherins and Voldemort to get suspicious or take any interest in us, so Teddy and I will act less-than-awed towards the boy-who-lived." _Harry_ said calmly. "Nothing too evil, and we will be teaching good defence. But in public we'll just be two 'neutral' wizards who would, of course, believe a newspaper as reputable as the Daily Prophet. I'll explain this to my counterpart after class so that he will have a real reaction to our acting. Since we're being neutral you, Al and Lils can take whatever stance you'd like."

"As for the 'testing Harry Potter' thing, that was all his idea." Teddy sighed, exasperatingly pointing to his godfather. "James, no offence, but for being 'modest and shy around fame', your family seriously loves showing off. Particularly your dad."

_Harry_ raised an eyebrow. "I am still here, you know."

"You were planning on dressing me in Death Eater duds and setting your younger self on me. Sorry if I'm a bit annoyed."

"Don't listen to Ted." _Harry_ said to Ginny as she turned red from held back laughter. "He gets cranky when he's hungry. Maybe you two can go ahead to lunch? I want to chat with James for a minute."

"Come on Ginny, we're clearly not wanted." Teddy smirked back at his godfather before turning to the youngest Weasley. "Maybe you can tell me about Harry Potter's alleged insanity?"

"I do have one or two juicy stories." Ginny said, finally giving way to laughter as they left the _muffliato_ed area.

_Harry_ shook his head. "That's one idea I know I'm going to regret."

"I could have told you that, even though I'm distracted by the weirdness of you having red hair." A smile tugged at James' lips. "Anyway, is this my cue to say: 'I've never done anything, anywhere, at anytime with anyone, and I _know_ you have no evidence to link me back to the crime'?"

His dad guffawed. "You are so lucky I know you're joking. You are, aren't you?"

"Surprisingly, yeah." James peered at the last few students hurrying past them towards the faintly roaring Great Hall. "I think Al and Lils are up to something, but it's probably just revenge on me."

"They're always up to something. Them and Fred." _Harry_ brushed his hand through his hair, and James took a moment to realise that they had all been doing that nervous habit quite a bit in the last twenty-four hours. "To be honest, I was a bit surprised that you were the one with the time turner."

"I've exploded the house enough." Jamie paused, realised what he had said, and clapped a hand to his mouth–not wanting to remind his dad of his past misbehaviour moments before he was surely going to be grounded.

_Harry_ grinned wirily. "No, _that's_ what you usually do. You say the worst thing at the worst possible time, sometimes accidentally but usually to stir up trouble. Or as an overdone pun. The explosions only happen when you and Fred decide to experiment."

"I guess I'll just have to up the ante while we're here." James said cheekily.

His dad narrowed his eyes. "Again, if I didn't know you were joking you'd be in for a lecture right now. Don't you realise how serious this situation is? There's enough trouble without adding to it."

"I know! I was only kidding." James retreated on his words hurriedly. "I won't do anything too crazy, promise."

"Sure, that's going to last." His father said tiredly. "I see you've met the twins?"

James smiled, but eyed his dad's weird expression. "Yeah, they're great, and Uncle Fred's amazing. It's pretty easy to tell them apart, though. Don't know why all of you kept going on about it."

_Harry_ did a double-take. "Really?"

"They have different voices." His son said simply. "I'm used to Uncle George's, so it's kind of easy to tell the difference. Would it be okay if I did some pranks with them? We wouldn't be messing up anything, nothing nearly that big."

"I suppose some small pranks would be okay but, Jamie, you can seriously tell them apart? I'm not sure if Molly could always do that. Lee maybe, wait, what about their voices-" the Head Auror shook his head, making a mental note to see if Jamie was at all interested in joining the Department after all this was over. Merlin knew they needed people skilled with observation on the force. "-never mind, this is off-topic. For breaking into my office, taking the time turner, and possibly botching up the timeline you're grounded indefinitely."

"But dad-" James started to protest, thinking of the chances he'd miss to play Quidditch.

"I'm not done." _Harry_ said tightly. "I understand the time travel itself was an accident, but what you did was incredibly irresponsible. Even forgetting about our predicament and the possible complications with the war, think of the trouble you might get into with the Ministry at home. Think about how worried Teddy must be to see his parents. Jamie just, just think about what this must be doing to your mother."

James paled, remembering the implications–not to mention the haunted look his dad had had the past day. "I'm really sorry. Mum would be worried sick, and with you and Teddy, I, I didn't mean..."

"I know you didn't." His father sighed. "And I know that I'm partly to blame because I held back my past from you kids. But that doesn't excuse your behaviour."

"I know." James hung his head, not wanting to look at his dad's disappointed expression. "I won't complain about the punishment."

"Good." _Harry_ looked at him evenly. "That's why your grounding are going to be in the form of weekly detentions, Fridays after dinner, taking place either with myself or with helping Madam Pince categorise the library. And when I say 'grounding', I don't mean it literally: you can still play Quidditch and try out for the team. I know you must be itching to challenge some of the Gryffindors."

James looked up hopefully. "Wait, what? Really? Thanks!"

"This is on condition of nothing else happening." _Harry_ warned. "Playing pranks with your siblings or with the twins, I can understand. But if I hear about any adventures-"

"You won't!" He said excitedly, his heart soaring. "Nothing like that."

"Good." _Harry_ started leading them towards the Great Hall where lunch had already started. "Your detentions with myself will hopefully take the place of that. You wanted to know about my past, so I'll tell you. And if you finish with your library duties early, you should be able to look over the old newspapers. I will tell your siblings about all of this soon, but I'd prefer if you don't let anything too big slip."

At this point, James was speechless, hardly daring to believe his luck.

_Harry_ turned around to look seriously at his nervous son, right before they reached the Great Hall's entrance. "I have to run an errand at Gringotts now, the Unspeakables set up a way for me to 'send' messages to the future. But to make sure no trouble takes place between now and the first detention on Friday, I'm going to give you a something to research before then."

He looked around the deserted hallway and, with a sigh, reapplied the _muffliato_ spell. "Jamie, you and your Aunt Luna were right about the existence of the Deathly Hallows. Not only do I possess the Elder Wand, but my invisibility cloak is the real thing as well."

_Harry_ looked knowingly at Jamie's stunned face. "A bit overwhelming, huh? I'm sorry to have to say that and run. I swear I will tell you all the details–it's past time for that–but let's see how much you can find out about the Peverells before Friday. But don't put off your schoolwork for this, all right? You'll get the answers either way."

James still couldn't find any words, and _Harry_ frowned, knowing how rare that was. "I'm just making mistakes all over the place. Jamie, I'm sorry to have thrown that at you, but I promise that I will explain it all later. I just," he paused in thought, "I didn't want to put this off any longer. Nor with the stories about my past, because goodness knows what nonsense you might find in the Daily Prophet. For anything that seems farfetched, I want you and your siblings to ask me about it before anyone else, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah sure." James said weakly, his thoughts still thinking about gifts from Death and what he had inadvertently hid under for all those years. "And I'll make sure Al and Lils know."

"Good lad." _Harry_ peered at his watch. "I've got to go now to make it back before the next class. Will you be okay?"

"I'm fine." James said, trying to throw as much determination behind the two words as he possibly could. This didn't seem to fool _Harry_, who frowned and said that maybe he should put off the errand.

"No, no dad, everything's fine. I swear." James walked over to the crowded and screaming Great Hall. "Have a good time in Diagon Alley!"

_Harry_ reluctantly left the castle as James headed into lunch. But the latter didn't take much notice of the frenzied activity or the delicious smells from the mounds of food, and was only able to manage basic greetings to his family as he sat down at the Gryffindor Table.

For his mind was skittering about with legends and beloved bedtime tales, his thoughts of Aunt Hermione's lectures and Aunt Luna's theories swarming over each other in a chaotic mess. He had a feeling that he was just waiting to start an adventure. But for now, he was only certain of one thing: he couldn't wait to get to the library.

* * *

**A/N: James–ah, I love him. He's much sillier than his father, but he did get Harry's crazy observation skills and extremely curious nature. I know most people focus on Al, but I wanted to add some depth to this cliché prankster character. So, being struck with writer's block, I did a bit of author insertion. Both he and myself are walking contradictions: at times quiet and introspective, but inevitably jumping off the walls in insanity and blurting out the most inappropriate thing at the worst possible moment. And as a fellow oldest sibling (though sans world-famous parents), I feel like Jamie would want to prove that _he_ can achieve something special, and not only be known through his family.**

**I also gave Jamie my adoration for escaping into mythological stories; in his case coming from his Aunt Luna. It's about the need to believe that there is something out there left to be discovered. That damsels in distress can be locked away in skyscrapers just as easily as ivy-coated towers. That Nargles might be hiding in mistletoe bristles, giggling as couple after couple stand in queue. It's why myriad muggles peered into the sky for any sign of owl and clutched letter on their eleventh birthdays. It's why we kept glancing at the news the day of _Deathly Hallows_' release, not daring to wish that a lifting of the Statute of Secrecy might come with its publication.**

**It was why we exhaled our held breaths when life continued on as normal.**

**Magic _does_ exist in Jamie's reality, so why shouldn't he believe that Wrackspurts and the Deathly Hallows are hiding somewhere? And why not reopen the beloved stories of legends and heroes while struggling to escape from his family's shadow?**

* * *

**Oh and, just by the way, receiving reviews from you lovely readers will give me incentive to update even faster :D**


	15. Lunch and Love?

**General Disclaimer: Come on. Would any of us _not_ tickle a sleeping dragon if given the chance? It's like why fanfiction gets written (by people like me who definitely _are not_ the original authors), even though we can't profit from it. We'll always do whatever seems entertaining at the time: intelligence takes a very distant back seat.**

* * *

If Harry had wondered what would get Ron to refuse to acknowledge his presence, he would have guessed that throwing a screaming tantrum or throwing curses would have done it. He was thus caught by surprise when his best friend chose to ignore his very existence for _not_ kissing his younger sister.

"You two are being so childish." Hermione sighed, spooning pasta onto both her plate and Harry's.

"Both of us?" Harry said in disbelief, swiping the hand away. "I've been sitting here trying to get this stubborn prat to talk to me! And Hermione, stop that. Why are you giving me more food?"

"I'm giving you food because those monsters didn't, and you're far too thin. So eat. Now." Hermione brandished her spoon. "Besides, you've been acting childishly the last few days."

"I've had good reason to. And stop acting like Mrs. Weasley!"

"Hermione," Ron looked up from his sandwich, purposely not glancing at Harry, "remind that stupid git of his temper tantrums. _And_ of his refusal to see something right in front of him!"

Harry snorted. "Like you're one to talk. And stop talking like I'm not here!"

Ron silently went back to his sandwich. Hermione gave both boys a steely look which carried a heavy threat. "Didn't you two learn anything from fourth year? Stop ignoring each other–but for heaven's sake, don't discuss this here."

"Yeah Ron, let's start talking." Harry said, leaning against the table and pretending to miss Hermione's glare. "How 'bout you explain why you're mad at me for _not_ wanting to snog Ginny."

Dean started choking. Neville thumped him on the back, and after a few moments the former boy recovered and stared at Ron disbelievingly. "What? You utter prat! You practically castrated me for complimenting your sister!"

Harry leaned back with a smile. "Point proven."

Ron gritted his teeth. "Dean, if you even think of getting with Ginny I'll do worse than that! Not to mention what Fred and George would do."

Harry eyed Ron weirdly. "Mate, you're even further proving my point. Which, thanks, but you're completely mental."

Ron pretended that no one had spoken and went back to his lunch. Harry rolled his eyes and gestured angrily just as Colin and Ginny came up to the table.

"See Hermione," Harry said furiously, "this is exactly what I was talking about-"

"Harry!" Colin said excitedly.

The boy-who-lived looked at him oddly, and even Ron glanced behind him at the fourth year. "Um, hey Colin. Hi Gin."

"Thank you!" The younger Gryffindor was practically bouncing on his feet. "James–the new kid, James Parker?–told me and-"

"My brother told you what?" Al Parker, walking up as the Great Hall began to fill up, apprehensively stared at Colin. "Don't believe anything he says, ever. James is utterly nuts and should not be listened to by anyone."

"Al," Ginny said with a slight giggle, "James explained that he knew Colin's name because Harry had mentioned he and his brother Dennis. By the way, Colin, this is Al Parker. Al, Colin Creevey."

"Ah." Al relaxed instantly. "Right, nice to meet you Colin. Sorry about that, my brother attracts even more trouble than me and my sister Lily combined."

"Where is Lily?" Harry said quickly, wanting to distract Colin from staring at him.

Al shrugged, plopping onto a seat next to the dark-haired Gryffindor. "Dunno. Probably chatting to Snape, she's weird like that."

Ron spat out his orange juice, and this time it was Neville who needed to be thumped out of his choking fit.

"Chatting to Snape?" Ginny said incredulously, taking a seat next to Ron and waving to Colin as he went down the table to some friends. "Please, please dear Merlin tell me she's not like James."

"What?" Harry and Ron said in unison, then glared at each other.

Al sighed. "What did that prat say this time?"

"That he's skilled at potions and loves experimenting."

"Oh, huh." Al blinked. "That's nowhere near as bad as what I was expecting."

"-and that he handles the explosions while you're more prone towards fiery things." Ginny said warily.

Al groaned, "And there it is."

"What about Lily and Snape?" Harry returned to what he deemed the most pressing point.

"Lily's the only Parker he can stand." Al grabbed a sandwich, eyeing the eavesdropping Gryffindors. "Snape and my dad hate each other: I'm actually shocked I survived the lesson." He paused, winced, then looked at Harry. "When I say hate, I mean he _really_ hates dad. Snape mentioned he'd like to poison him."

Harry immediately spat out his spoonful of pasta and began scrubbing at his mouth with a napkin. Hermione sighed and leaned forward so that only Harry could hear her whisper. "I highly doubt Snape meant _you_ you."

"Like I'll take the chance." Harry threw down the napkin and looked at the rest of his lunch mournfully. "Guess I'll make a detour to the kitchen later."

Hermione shook her head, decided to let Dobby know that his 'Master Harry' wasn't getting enough food, and turned her attention and narrowed eyes to her other best male friend. "Would you just get over it?"

"Over what?" Ginny asked curiously.

Hermione ignored Harry's frantically waving hands for silence. "Ron's got it into his head that Harry should date you, but Harry asked out Cho this morning."

It was now Al's turn who regretted taking a sip of pumpkin juice. Ginny blinked at Harry. "You asked out Cho? That's great!"

"Wha-what?" Al spluttered, wiping off his spilled pumpkin juice.

Ron just gaped at his little sister. "Great? But you like Harry!"

"Remind me how this is your business?" Ginny narrowed his eyes. "In case you've forgotten, I'm dating Michael. No offence Harry, but I got rid of my fangirl crush on you ages ago." The pumpkin juice cup slipped onto the floor, but Al was too startled by the news to notice.

"None taken." Harry said with relief, giving Ginny a small smile. "Friends?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Merlin, boys are clueless. Yes Harry, of course."

Ron and Al had both frozen in their seats, Hermione looked torn between arguing and nodding her head in agreement, and the rest of the listening Gryffindors got the feeling that they had missed something. This notion only intensified when Ginny swivelled around to glare at her still frozen brother.

"Wait, you've been giving Harry a hard time about this?" Ginny said in disbelief. "Ron, you utter prat! _I am dating someone_! Stay out of our love lives!"

Ron blinked. "So, you don't want to date Harry?"

"No!" Ginny said in annoyance, before turning to the boy-who-lived. "Again, no offence. I'm just not free right now."

Harry shrugged, decidedly ignoring the small, protesting voice in his head. "Again, no worries."

"So you _aren't_ heartbroken that Harry asked out Cho?" Ron said hopefully.

Ginny stared at her brother in annoyance. "No, I'm not, so stop being mad at your best friend for no reason! You're acting like a complete idiot."

Ron huffed again and crossed his arms. But he, at last, turned to Harry with a weak grin. "Mate, girls are barmy."

"Oi!" Ginny and Hermione exclaimed. Harry gave a small smile, glad that things were back to normal, and happily noticing that a cheeky Ginny was rather adorable. But he suddenly got a sense that someone was watching him. Looking to his side he gulped at the expression on Al's face. The other boy had moved past shock and amazement, and was glancing between Harry and Ginny as though he was trying to solve a mystery. Harry wondered if his friends' stomachs also dropped nervously when that expression was on his face.

"Al?" Harry spoke quietly so only the other boy could hear. "Sorry about that. Um, are you all right with this?"

"Hmm?" Al took a moment to shake his head and get out of his thoughts. "Oh yeah, course I am."

Harry felt stumped. Not that he wasn't relieved by the answer, but it seemed that Al had been truthful. "Ah, good then. Right...are you sure?"

"Totally." Al waved it off. "I've had bigger challenges before, so this will be no problem."

Harry wasn't quite sure how to take the last comment. "Bigger challenges?"

"What with Jamie being Jamie..." Al trailed off when he saw his dazed older brother come towards them. "Never mind, you don't want to know. The point is that Lils and I are experts at fixing this sort of problem."

Harry blinked in confusion. 'What problem?' Al stared at him worriedly. "Huh, this might be harder than I thought. Hey James, how's everything?"

James slid down next to Al. "What? Oh, everything's good. Absolutely great."

"Just so you know, Ginny's dating Michael." Al whispered to him.

Some of the dreaminess left James' features as he scowled. "Yeah, I met him. Stupid prat."

"And Harry asked out Cho."

James stared in surprise. "No way. Who's that?"

Al shrugged. "No idea. Does it matter?"

"Nope." James whispered back, looking around the table with a frown. "Wait, what are they arguing about?"

Al glanced across at the bickering couple. "Ron and Hermione? Are you seriously asking that?"

"Well, Sirius is my middle name-Oi! No need to slap me." James leaned towards the irritated duo. "What are you two going on about?"

"The usual:" Hermione didn't stop glaring at Ron, "that he has the emotional range of a teaspoon and never minds his own business."

Ron huffed. "Like you were so thrilled about Harry's idea."

"Well no, but it's his choice!" The brunette retorted shrilly.

"Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

"I never said that! But you shouldn't force your nose somewhere it doesn't belong!"

"That's a riot coming from you. Always demanding that we live in the library-"

"Because you are _always_ trying to copy my essays!"

"I do _not_ copy-"

"Oh, get a room already, will you?" James groaned in annoyance. "We all know your arguments inevitably lead to snogging sessions."

There was a moment of silence, than all hell broke loose.

James' eyes widened and Al's hand slapped against his brother's mouth, but it was too late. The eavesdropping Gryffindors' reactions were the most calm, but their shouts of laughter was still enough to make many others in the Great Hall curiously turn their way. Harry and Ginny–after a few seconds of shock–joined in the laughter. Al seemed very tempted to start hexing James, but instead forced himself to start chuckling and roughly nudged his brother to do the same.

Ron and Hermione, still staring at each other, were frozen in their seats. The only thing moving was their rapidly reddening expressions.

"Heh, sorry about that." James finally managed to stumble out as the laughter died down. "Just a bad joke."

"Yeah, a _very_ bad joke." Al muttered at him under his breath. "Why do you always have to do this?"

"It's not like I mean to." James mumbled back as Ron and Hermione at last came to their senses and started vehemently denying everything–much to their classmates' amusement. Al snorted.

"I don't!" James protested. "It just pops out and-"

"-and Lils and I fix it?"

"I do too." James argued. "Besides, I did get Teddy and Victoire together-"

"-and almost got Teddy killed by Uncle Bill?" Al rolled his eyes.

"Sure, let's just focus on the negatives..."

"Were you really joking?" Harry side-stepped into their hushed conversation.

James and Al just looked at him. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank god! This back and forth has been going on since fourth year, maybe third. It's driving my barmy. So, when do they finally admit it?"

"End of your seventh year." James smirkingly whispered, leaning over Al. Harry blinked, his grin falling from his face as he glanced from his future sons to his best friends' renewed screaming match.

"Seventh year?" The boy-who-lived said weakly.

"Oh, Harry?" Ginny leaned towards the whispering boys and away from the still vehemently arguing couple. "I forgot to mention–Snape isn't the only teacher you have to worry about."

Harry blinked. "You mean Trelawney's preoccupation with my death-"

"Not her." Ginny bit her lip as she realised that a few Gryffindors were still listening in. "James and I bumped into his dad and Professor London in the hallway. It seems that they, erm, sort of believe the Daily Prophet about you."

This statement was enough to even stop Ron and Hermione mid-sentence. Through Harry's shock, he faintly noticed James' and Al's chuckles, and Seamus' cheer–and yelp after Neville elbowed him.

"_What?_" Harry said, thinking he must have misheard her.

"Tough luck, mate." Spoke Dean with a shrug. "But really, it seems like every DADA teacher has to hate you. Can't be too surprising."

"You have a point there." Ron grinned, his shock giving way to humour. "Oh Merlin, this is too good. Ginny, what did they say exactly?"

His sister fiddled with a strand of her hair. "It's not that they're completely against Harry. Not really. They're just taking a _neutral stance_." She heavily emphasised those last words. "Look, just be prepared for some comments in the class, all right? And do try not to get angry: Professor Parker seemed rather, erm, eager to test you."

"To test me." Harry repeated, still not believing this was happening. Which, with the events of the past twenty-four hours, was saying something.

Ginny nodded pityingly. "Uh huh. Seemed rather eager about it, even wanted London to dress up as a Death Eater and jump out at you. Mental the both of them." She paused and looked at the Parker kids apologetically. "Sorry guys."

James waved off the comment. "No worries. Though you should meet our mum–she makes dad look almost sane."

Ginny and Harry both blushed deeply, Ron finally fell into hopeless laughter, and the listening Gryffindors felt that they had missed something crucial.

"Great, well, thanks Ginny." Harry smiled at her weakly. As embarrassed as he was, he was grateful for the warning about his insane older self. He also couldn't help but think that the redhead was rather cute when she was flustered like this. Would it be possible to make her flush appear again without getting hexed in the process?

"No problem." Ginny said, though still clearly wishing to call James on his insult. But she could only sigh in defeat. "Just remember not to take the lesson too seriously, all right?"

"No promises." Harry smiled cheekily as Ginny's annoyed expression turned to him. Again, he was a little off-put by how adorable the angry glare made her. He wasn't sure why he kept noticing these things about her. Perhaps it was because he was slowly noticing her features mixed with his on their ki-the Parker kids. The boys clearly took after his older self, and Lily after her mum, but just like Lily had his smirk Al and James had Ginny's smile.

It was odd, disconcerting, and a bit queasy to recognise these things. But it was also strangely, nice, as well.

The rest of lunch was particularly light. Harry was relieved that Ron was acting normally to him again. But he wasn't so pleased that this meant the start of constant teasing, with the redhead nonchalantly wondering how evil the DADA Professors were this year and if either of them had turbans, were vampires, or were more preoccupied with their hair than their wands. These comments were spurred on by James' and Al's enthusiastic musings as to whether Henry or Teddy was more likely to 'go dark'. Though it was a shame that the Parker siblings' Luke Skywalker and Yoda impressions went over most of the students' heads.

Hermione was even worse than the three teasing boys combined. Insistent that Harry eat more, she was deaf to his protests of highly probable poisoning. It seemed that she had not forgotten the revelations which their conversation about the Dursleys unearthed. But while the conversation had just made Ron treat his friend even more like a brother–annoying silence, irritating teasing and all–Harry was pretty sure he had become Hermione's new pet project. Causes revolving around House-Elf Rights and S.P.E.W. apparently had nothing on him.

In the midst of this insanity, Ginny was a breath of fresh air. While Harry had been worried about facing the youngest Weasley, conversation between them came easily. For she seemed as desperate as he was to avoid mentioning the time travellers, and understood that Harry was less than comfortable talking about his relatives or having people fuss over him. So she took the third route, and the lunch went by in a whirl as the two discussed Quidditch tactics, league standings, and Gryffindor's chances for the House Cup.

Ginny was very knowledgeable about the sport, and Harry couldn't miss the way her face lit up when discussing the play-by-play tactics. He was then surprised, but not shocked, when she hesitantly mentioned that she was going to try out to be a reserve chaser. In fact, he was rather shocked he hadn't known she flew–let alone played–before. But it wasn't that surprising: he had known Ginny for years but they had never really talked, not even after the Chamber incident. Harry made a mental note to change this.

But apparently this would have to wait, for Ginny suddenly peered at something behind him with a smile on her face. "Hey Ginny." Michael came around the table, lightly kissing his girlfriend's cheek. "Finished with lunch already?"

"Hi Michael." She looked up at the boy now behind her. "What brings you over?"

"To walk my girlfriend to class." A smile stayed on his face, but became slightly strained when he glanced at the scowling Ron, Harry and James. "If you're done talking to your friends, of course."

"Well I-"

"And we don't want to be late, right?" Michael said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Ginny looked back over to Harry and shrugged. "Sure, I guess I'm done."

"Stupid Ravenclaw." James muttered under his breath, not caring that Al elbowed him.

"We'll finish our conversation later?" Ginny asked Harry, standing up and grabbing her bag.

Harry tried to grin. "Sure, yeah, of course. I've got to hear why you prefer the Harpies to Puddlemere."

"Because they're amazing." Ginny rolled her eyes. "You, Potter, have terrible taste."

"Oi!" Harry said half-heartedly, smiling at the banter.

"You do." Ginny smirked. She didn't notice her boyfriend's frown. "I'll have to talk some sense into you later."

Harry just shook his head, amused, as Ginny and Michael walked away. It took him a moment to notice Al and James staring at him.

"What?" He asked them self-consciously. The brothers exchanged a glance, a smirk, and started shaking their heads, refusing to elaborate. Ron took the ensuing silence as a perfect opportunity to get back to his new favourite topic.

"So Harry," Ron said innocently, "I heard Fred and George have their old bet going. They have good odds that the DADA Professors are either Death Eaters or being possessed by You Know Who. I have a few sickles, so should I try for the long shot that Parker's a disguised Sirius Black? Though, Luna Lovegood might be onto something with her Stubby Boardman theory."

Already oddly disappointed with Ginny leaving, and slowly realising what class was coming up next, Harry's patience finally snapped. Hermione, however, beat him to the punch. Literally.

"OW! Bloody hell, stop hitting me!" Ron rubbed the back of his head. "Crazy woman-" eyes widening, he quickly dived off the chair, "-no! Wait! I didn't mean that!"

* * *

**A/N: I've had a very odd idea for a story. Don't worry, I won't stop work on 'HTT', but the dratted plot bunny wouldn't leave me be until I wrote the first chapter. So I wrote it. And now I'm staring at the word file, trying to figure out if it's hilarious, or absolute lunacy that should be hidden away in a blackhole deep in my computer, never to be unearthed again.**

**The summary? What would happen if Harry's friends–with his best intentions in mind–kept him slightly overdosed on cheering charms to help with the dire psychological effects of the Second War's aftermath? And what if, with the horcrux finally gone from his head, he discovered that his true personality was a bit more Marauderish than expected? Basically peeps, this is a CANON '101 Things I Will Not Do At Hogwarts' featuring a high!Harry and hilarity amidst post-war angst.**

**No, I'm not even kidding.**

**The first chapter features poor, poor Headmistress McGonagall, a spacedout!Harry, flying monkeys, and George gleefully taking advantage of the boy-who-lived's highly suggestible state.**

**So quick poll: would you read this possible fic?**


	16. Jinxing and Jumping

**A/N: So, about that computer drama and me thinking that I'd have to take a hiatus: False alarm! Well, no, not really false alarm. My laptop still got destroyed, but the data recovery people are miracle workers and after telling me it was a long-shot, they somehow managed to save my hard drive! So instead of going on hiatus, I can thank all of you amazingly supportive and wonderful peeps in a brand new chapter (which has US spelling, b/c my new laptop is confusing and won't turn on UK spell checking)! Jessica682, Hufferin, MajorBookworm94, FutureAuthoress176, siriusluvr, WitAngerandBravery, Waytomuchadoaboutnothing, girlX901, Nelly94 (Sorry I 'used' your story idea, but I still think your plot sounds great!), anonymous (2), jennvellcs, and IFlipForHarryPotter: THANK YOU SO MUCH for your concern and amazing comments! I truly cannot thank you all enough for helping me smile throughout this horrendous week.**

**Merlin, I am so unbelievably relieved right now. Seriously, I wouldn't be feeling this high in the clouds even if I was racing a Firebolt or a Hungarian Horntail :D**

**General Disclaimer: I find it hilarious that J.K. Rowling might be lurking somewhere on this site. What if we were unknowingly reading some of her writing under a pseudonym? Imagine that she wrote HP/LV slash, Dumbledore/Weasley bashings, or 'My Immortal'! With that being said, none of Rowling's surely numerous accounts is, in fact, this one. But wouldn't that be awesome?**

* * *

The Trio walked up to Defense Against the Dark Arts early. Hermione strode into the room first, wearing a bright smile ringed with curiosity. Harry nervously slid in after her, the look on his face suggesting he'd prefer a week of only potions to this. Ron bounded in behind them, tie and hair askew, clearly thinking that his birthday had come early.

"This is unreal." Harry mumbled, reluctantly following Hermione in setting his pack in the front row.

"More like totally awesome." Ron slid into a chair in-between his friends. "Still, if any of us was going to be a teacher, I'd have bet on Hermione."

"Ron," she said, grabbing a quill and parchment, "for this class, I'd have always predicted Harry. Consider what he's done."

"True." Ron replied as they both ignored Harry's uncomfortable shifting. The redhead continued his teasing, reaching over to ruffle his best friend's hair with a smirk. "So, what will a Dark Lord Defeater and Head Auror do in his first lesson?"

"Don't say it like that; and stop doing that!" Harry shoved Ron's hand away, casting aside the weight that had dropped into his stomach at the hints about the future. "I can't believe this is happening."

"I know! It makes taking the mickey out of you ridiculously easy." Ron grinned happily as the last students trailed into the classroom. "At least you know the Professors aren't out to kill you this year. Probably. Maybe."

WHACK.

"Gah! Hermione!" Ron winced, rubbing the back of his head with a scowl.

"Don't joke about that." Hermione waved her sharpened quill threateningly. "Honestly, do you have any sensitivity at all?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then why do you insist on acting like this?" She said huffily.

"I was only joking." Ron looked to Harry for support.

"Hermione, it's fine-"

"No, it's not fine." Hermione angrily started on them both, quill still pointed furiously. "We always get into trouble. This year is strange enough; do we really have to tempt fate?"

"Tempt fate?" Harry asked, managing a small smile. "Hermione, you think divination is rubbish."

She narrowed her eyes. "It's an expression of speech, as you well know. I just meant you shouldn't jinx it!"

Ron looked at his friends in confusion. "Wait, what are you hexing?"

Hermione sighed. "It's a muggle expression, Ron. It means that–that if you say something is not going to happen, then you're all but asking for it to occur."

Ron blinked. "Muggle phrases are barmy. How do they even know about divination and spells?"

Hermione quickly felt far more empathetic to what Harry was dealing with. Even with Ron not teasing her, she had an overwhelming urge to hit her head against the desk. Or maybe a certain redhead's head instead. Yes, that would be a much better idea. 'Professor Harry' might even give her a few bonus points–Hermione held back a smirk at the thought. Oh god, maybe Ron was rubbing off on her.

The classroom was almost full at this point, with all of the students sitting in their seats and chattering. But the two teachers were conspicuously absent. It was only at the hour mark that the door burst open by Teddy being blasted into the room, before landing awkwardly and spinning around to fire spells at his opponent.

Professor Parker paused in the doorway to place a few protective enchantments over the students, before twisting around to duel Professor London with a fury.

Spells whipped about in a frenzy, blurring together to an extent that the students, after the first few minutes, stopped even attempting to puzzle out one curse from the next. The Professors had similarly stopped caring about this little detail, striving only to avoid being hit by any of the fizzing multicolored rays, with the only pauses to the curses resting in a constant reapplication of shield charms.

The Gryffindors were thus audience to something akin to a gymnastics performance of leaps, ducks beneath crunching desks, flights via well-placed _wingardium leviosas_, and enough dips and turns that the duel rivaled the momentum of a Quidditch match with both seekers neck to neck, a moment away from grasping the evasive golden snitch.

Everyone stared flabbergasted at the Professors. Everyone, that was, except for Ron, Hermione and Neville, who wore similar expressions but were alternating between watching the fight and gaping at the young–currently stupefied–boy-who-lived.

At last, London took a misstep for–when avoiding Parker's stupefy–he ran directly into the silently cast binding spell. As London toppled over, ropes tying him from neck to toe, Professor Parker turned, panting but smiling, to his awestruck class.

"Welcome to the new year of Defense Against the Dark Arts." Parker said, disintegrating the shields with a flick of his wand. "I am Professor Henry Parker, and this is my godson and Assistant Professor," he gestured towards the glaring young man who was still bound up on the floor, "Teddy London, who thought that doing a practical demonstration in the first session would be unwise."

Parker undid the ropes and London jumped up, looking at his godfather disbelievingly. "After I say that coming in dueling would be a very bad idea, you hit me with a blasting curse right outside the door?"

"It was a weak blasting spell." Parker said apologetically. "And I was right, just look at the reaction we got!"

The redhead gestured around the room at the students with dropped jaws.

"I decided to do this impromptu demonstration," Parker continued, "exactly because your previous defense teachers have been–less than competent." He smiled like this was an inside joke. "According to the notes, the teachers in your first two years were not only incompetent but dangerous, and your previous professor was an impostor at fault for a student's death. The only decent year you lot had was with Professor Lupin." Parker smiled at London, whose glare diminished into a proud grin.

Hermione raised her hand.

"Let me guess," Parker asked her with amusement, "you are wondering what this history of your past professors has to do with our interesting entrance?"

Students around the room nodded while Hermione put her hand down. Parker leaned onto the desk and surveyed the class. "Tell me, how many of you have used a hex or curse against someone outside of the classroom? Schoolyard brawls count–and don't worry, I won't be taking down names."

There were a few sniggers as almost all of the students raised their hands. Parker nodded. "Good. All of you are at least marginally versed in offensive magic. Professor London and I dueled to demonstrate what was possible when combining both offensive and defensive magic, something which your previous instructors have failed to focus on. Now, since this is Defense Against the Dark Arts, raise your hand if you not only know a shield spell, but would be comfortable enough in your proficiency of it to do a demonstration."

This time, only a handful of students answered affirmatively as much of the class merely looked sheepish.

Parker pushed himself off the desk, once again looking unsurprised. "Well then, that would be an excellent place to start." He smirked, peering around the classroom. Harry felt his stomach flip because, oh Merlin, he recognized that expression. It only showed up when he was starting a plan, or about to do something recklessly stupi-

"Ah yes, Harry Potter. Our resident – celebrity." Parker said slowly, his brown eyes doing the familiar flick up to the lightening bolt scar. Harry felt his jaw gape open of its own accord. Hermione was similarly stunned, but Ron and Neville started giggling–though both would vehemently deny this later. "Mr. Potter! What is the incantation and corresponding wand movement of a shield charm?"

"Protego, and it's produced with just a wave of the wand." Harry said with slight dread, wondering what was going on.

"Do you know any others? And Mr. Potter, I do expect to be spoken to with respect." Parker impatiently tapped his wand against the desk.

"I," the boy-who-lived glanced at his friends before looking back up, "_protego_ can block most things...sir."

"But not everything." Parker finished. "Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything. Fine, if our self-named 'hero' cannot list any others, can he at least inform us of the limitations of the basic shield charm?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering when his future self had gotten so good at imitating Snape. "I guess it only generally protects one person, and it can't block the Unforgiveables or most of the other dark arts."

"Sir." Parker said lightly.

"-the other dark arts, _sir._" Harry repeated, biting his lip to keep from further remarking.

"Adequate, but very simplistic." Parker drawled, and Harry noticed that the teacher was positively enjoying this. "There are other shield charms, such as Protego Maxima, which have much wider ranges–but Mr. Potter is correct to say that a _protego_ suffices for individual protection. Then again, big enough transformations or heavy levitated objects can easily bring the spell down as well. Five points from Gryffindor, I'm afraid."

Harry opened his mouth angrily, but instead just issued a yelp when Hermione stamped down on his foot. London turned to Parker. "Such a shame that the 'Defeater of Dark Lords' doesn't know basic defense spells."

Parker's lips twitched like he was keeping back a laugh. "A pity. I suppose Mr. Potter, that you see no need for class when you could be preparing for your next press conference? Celebrity is as celebrity does, I suppose."

Ron let out a particularly loud guffaw, partly obscuring Harry's yell as Hermione kicked his leg and glared at him to 'shut-up-and-behave!'

"So disruptive." London shook his head. "Mr. Potter, if you are indeed feeling pain like the Daily Prophet has reported, you are welcome to go to the Hospital Wing. As Defense Against the Dark Arts instructors, we are acutely aware that the killing curse you survived may have effected your...mental processes."

"I AM NOT-" but Hermione's hand was already covering Harry's mouth.

Parker mouthed at London, 'Yes, definitely disturbed.' Seamus started snickering, but shut up once Neville and Ron sent him dark looks–even though the latter had been doing much the same.

"Please Professors, I'm sorry." Hermione said, finally letting go of Harry. "That was my fault, you see I-"

"You do not have to make excuses for Mr. Potter, Miss..." Professor Parker trailed off.

"Granger, sir. Hermione Granger."

Professor London looked enlightened. "Miss. Granger, while choosing to romantically entangle yourself with Mr. Potter over Victor Krum is your own choice, I will not permit any students to play footsies in this class."

Ron started coughing, but Hermione only shot London an exasperated look, muttering quietly, "You've read Rita Skeeter? Wha-Parker, of course. Why am I not surprised." She then raised her voice to a normal level. "Harry and I are just friends, there was never any love triangle-"

"Didn't even consider a ménage a trois?" London whispered so that only Parker could hear. Parker responded with a silent stinging hex and a quick silencio to muffle the yelp on impact.

"-and don't tell me you agree with the Daily Prophet that Harry is an insane liar." Hermione finished with an annoyed huff, quite tired of ridiculous teachers and all this nonsense, thank you very much.

"Technically speaking, you can't be both lying and insane." London said thoughtfully as he rubbed his chest, Parker's silencing spell fading. "If someone knows they're lying, then they aren't insane. While if they're insane they would believe whatever crazy things they were saying, and so wouldn't actually be lying."

"Ted, I think that's beside the point." Parker interrupted drily. "Miss. Granger, as much as I value your loyalty to your friend, the last thing I want is to further inflate Harry Potter's head. So could we get back to the lesson and stop discussing how fame is a fickle friend?"

Harry, resisting the urge to slam his head against the desk, settled for mumbling, "Lockhart. He's quoting bloody Lockhart."

Professor Parker smirked. "What was that, Mr. Potter?"

"Just wondering if you were acquainted with Gilderoy Lockhart," Harry said, but sighed when he noticed the teacher's pointed look, "_sir._"

"Lockhart? Funny bloke, and a right expert on memory charms. Impaled upon his own sword, though." Parker said, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

"Oh really, Dumbledore now?" Harry finally gave into the temptation to bang his head–on his bag, not the desk, so the impact wasn't quite as detrimental. Hermione would have stopped him if she hadn't been doing the exact same thing, and Ron was far too busy suppressing his laughter to interfere. "Why. Is. My. Life. So. Bloody. Insane?"

Parker shook his head, looking pityingly at his poor, deranged student. "Maybe we should get you to hospital."

Harry at last looked up, a glint of steel in his eye. "I doubt I'm the one who needs to be checked over, _Professor_."

London sighed. "Denial. Poor, poor boy."

Harry angrily opened his mouth, but a wave of Parker's wand took the words right out of it.

"I think we've wasted enough time on this." Parker said authoritatively. "If Mr. Potter feels well enough to continue, I shant argue. Now, wands out, and stand back from your seats!"

As the chairs, desks and satchels magically whizzed against the walls, the Trio went to stand by the wall as the class clutched their wands nervously.

"Forget what I said before." Ron chuckled to a highly annoyed Harry. "Every single DADA teacher is out to get you. I've got to get my bet to the twins!"

* * *

"Good, good." London spoke. "Wonderful work class."

"Indeed," Parker agreed with a smile, "great improvement. Top-notch technique from Miss. Patil, Miss. Granger and Mr. Longbottom. Even Mr. Potter made up for his rough start with a sound performance, and an excellent display of the impediment jinx."

"Homework will be light for now, come up with a brief description for the next class on alternatives to protego. But until then, I want everyone to practice until the shield charm at least becomes second nature. We will be testing your prowess of this in future lessons."

A wave of his hand, and the desks and chairs were back in place. As students began to pack up and make their way from the room, Parker piped in with one last announcement. "Mr. Potter, if you would stay after class a few minutes. No," he said when Ron and Hermione turned back as well, "I just want to talk to Mr. Potter. I'm sure the three of you can find each other afterwards."

Saying good bye to his friends, Harry swung his pack over his shoulder and made his way over to the teachers. As the last students left the classroom and the door rammed close, the boy-who-lived felt an odd sort of nervousness as Harry cast a muffliato around them.

Teddy's burst of laughter abruptly evaporated the awkward tension.

"Oh good god! Your face! And Aunt Hermione's retort!" The metamorphmagus could barely get the words out between his chuckles. "_Harry_, I will never doubt your plans again. Except ones involving me dressed as a Death Eater. But that was brilliant!"

"Glad you enjoyed yourself." _Harry_ said ironically, but he too was smiling when he turned to face Harry. "Sorry that we didn't warn you beforehand, we needed a truthful reaction."

"Death Eater-you know, never mind, I don't want to know. Warn me about what?" Harry said warily, having a gut feeling that he knew exactly what was going on.

"You know that this is going to be a pivotal year for the war?" _Harry_ paused while Harry nodded. "Well, the last thing we want to do is jeopardize that and risk changing something that can't be obliviated away. The best way to do that is to stay below the radar of Voldemort and his Slytherin spies."

Harry gritted his teeth. "So you're going to act like you don't believe me about Voldemort returning."

"We're going to act like we believe the Daily Prophet." Teddy corrected. "We are, after all, two ordinary wizards who have no ties at all with you or Dumbledore. Now, if the Prophet were to suddenly start singing a different tune..."

"But we hopefully won't be around for that long." _Harry_ quickly interrupted, a stormy look entering his eyes. Harry gulped, for as much as he wanted everyone to believe him about Voldemort, it looked like it would come at a price. "Anyway, we wanted to explain what was going on and apologize for the act. If it makes it any better, if Professor Umbridge had continued teaching you would have had far worse."

"I am going to get her once you all return home, obliviate everyone, and set everything right." Harry pointed out.

"True." Teddy rubbed the back of his head. "Well, is there anything else that either of you mentally deranged and attention seeking wizards want to say?"

The metamorphmagus immediately held up his hands placifyingly as he was met with two highly annoyed, identical glares. "Kidding, kidding! Merlin, you have no sense of humor."

"Actually," Harry paused as his thoughts returned to earlier that day, "I'm not sure if it's relevant, but something did happen."

"What?" _Harry_ asked.

The boy-who-lived hesitated, but figured that if he was going to tell anyone it would be easiest to tell this someone. Well, at least when it came to information about possible danger: asking advice for his confusion over Cho and Ginny was another story altogether.

"It's probably nothing, but I had a weird dream last night and my scar hurt afterwards. It was, it was about Voldemort." Harry vaguely noticed that neither of the adults had been flinching at his name. He wasn't surprised at this, but it was still a nice change from the typical horrorstruck reaction. And though the Gryffindor knew it shouldn't have, the concerned expression on his older self's face put him slightly at ease: at least he knew he wasn't worrying over nothing.

"A dream," _Harry_ rubbed his eyes, trying to remember, "you mean about a corridor? Or about the graveyard?"

"No. Well, I'm having those too, I guess." The Gryffindor stumbled out awkwardly. "But this was something different; like the vision I had before fourth year."

The hardening concern on Harry's older self's expression was no longer reassuring. "Another one? But there were no other dreams, not until Christmas at least."

"I'm not lying!" Harry said angrily, feeling a sudden surge of rage from somewhere inside of him. He didn't realize it, but his 'green like a fresh pickled toad' eyes had momentarily held a crimson hue. He did notice Teddy and _Harry_ step back with surprised expressions, which made him pause, take a deep breath, and cool down. "I know what I saw, it was real. It wasn't just a dream."

"I wasn't doubting you." _Harry_ said unsteadily as Teddy warily looked back and forth between his godfather and the young boy-who-lived. "It just didn't happen in the original timeline. What did you see?"

Harry rubbed his scar, and sat on top of one of the desks. "It was Voldemort-"

"From what perspective?" _Harry_ interrupted. The other two stared at him. "I mean, were you looking down at the dream from above? Or was it like you were watching the scene on a telly?"

"No I," Harry paused as realization struck him. His fingers paused over his scar. "I was him. Voldemort. I-he was talking to the Death Eaters, and I think he was torturing Lucius Malfoy. He found out that his diary had been destroyed."

If Harry didn't know better, he would have thought his words had petrified his older self. Teddy was just mouthing 'Diary?' in befuddlement, but stopped once he turned to his godfather.

"Diary?" _Harry_ finally said in disbelief, his wand dropping out of his hand to the floor. "Voldemort found out that the blasted thing is gone? Wouldn't Malfoy have-Merlin, I-are you sure?"

"Yes, I-"

"No," _Harry_ shook his head violently, "you don't understand. You need to be positive about this: Voldemort definitely knows about the diary?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Harry said, wondering what on earth was going on. "He was angry enough about it to torture Malfoy."

_Harry_ began pacing, brushing his hands through his hair wildly. His wand remained on the floor. Harry, not very comfortable with staring at his possibly-crazy older self, curiously looked down at the piece of wood. Dumbledore had mentioned that it was no longer his holly and phoenix feather wand, and had seemed very surprised by it. The wand did look a bit odd, it was rather longer than normal and had three knobs-

"Did Voldemort go anywhere after that?" _Harry_ said anxiously, and Harry turned his gaze from the wand to his suddenly disheveled older self. "Did he mention any other objects?"

Harry shared a glance with Teddy, who looked as bewildered as he felt. "Yeah, but how did you know?"

"Doesn't matter." _Harry_ at last leaned down for his wand. "What objects? Where did he go?"

"He-I didn't recognize it, but he went to a forest." Harry said slowly, trying to piece together the images from early that morning. "I think there was a shack? He felt relieved when he found a ring in there."

_Harry_ let out a slow breath. "Did Voldemort only check on the ring?"

Rubbing his forehead, the Gryffindor nodded. "He thought that it was the one Dumbledore was most likely to find, so didn't bother looking for the others. The things were, erm, the diary and ring, and then a locket, a cup, a tiara thing, and Nagini I think."

"What objects? What ring?" Teddy broke into the tense atmosphere. "Wait, Nagini? The snake?"

"I'll explain later." _Harry_ said hurriedly before turning back to his younger self, his face still clouded with worry. "The 'tiara thing' is a diadem, but never mind that. These objects, did he mention an accidental one?"

"Accidental?" Harry stared at him curiously. "No. Is there one? What are these things anyway?"

_Harry_'s entire body seemed to relax. "Sorry, I'll tell you later. But that is excellent news. So Voldemort knows about the diary, but didn't find anything amiss with the other objects because he only checked on the ring?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, but he was furious about the diary. Seemed to think there was something special about the number seven, and knew that he'd have to 'make' another one to replace the one I destroyed back in my second year. Which is weird, because even with the diary there were only six objects."

_Harry_ froze.

"What did you just say?" While his older self's question had been innocent enough, Harry had never thought he could sound that horrified. From the concerned look Teddy was giving his ashen-faced godfather, he had also never seen or heard him like this.

"Voldemort wants to make another." Harry repeated slowly, unsure of whether he should get _Harry_ to the hospital wing, for he was holding onto the front desk with a death grip, as though it was the sole thing preventing him from toppling over. "He thinks that having seven of–whatever they are–is important. Which, again, is strange because there were only ever six."

"Voldemort counts himself as the seventh. There are only six 'objects', but seven pieces." _Harry_ explained abstractedly, his mind elsewhere. "Did, did he mention what the new object would be?

Harry shook his head. "I don't think he knows yet; he was too relieved that the others were safe. But what's going on? Why are you so scared?"

"Dad," Teddy said gently, "really, what is it?"

This brought _Harry_ out of his stupefaction. He swiftly shook his head, before looking up at the other two in apology. "Sorry, it was just a shock. This–this is really bad."

"We kind of got that." Teddy said drily, still looking shaken. "Not that you aren't one for melodramatics..."

"God, how could I have been so stupid? Relying on bloody obliviates, complete bollocks." _Harry_ interrupted his godson and–for the first time in who knows how many years–nervously rubbed his lightening scar, or at least where the faded mark was hidden. "The timeline has already been changed. Maybe because of that idiotic stunt I pulled with Umbridge, but I don't know, maybe it was inevitable that something would happen. All I need now is for the kids to destroy Hogwarts, or spring Sirius from Headquarters and expose him, or find the damned diadem or locket and try it on, not to mention breaking into Gringotts with James' fascination with all things concerning legends, dragons and Hallows, which I'm bloody encouraging! 'More senile than Dumbledore', let the blasted Prophet print that. This stuff never happens when _Ginny_'s around–Merlin, I'm not sure if she'll hug or murder me if we get back-"

"DAD!" Teddy said again, panic fighting to replace his concern. "You're rambling, you never ramble. What the hell is going on?"

"The timeline's been changed. Probably, most likely." _Harry_ took a few deep breaths, and after a moment became more steady. "We might still be able to get home, there was an experimental process that _Hermione_ mentioned to me a while back. I–I won't mention it to Dumbledore until I know for sure. But that isn't the biggest problem, at least not for this reality. And, damn it, I really should warn you at least–learn from the past and all that." He looked uncertain, but slowly drew his eyes up to meet the others' confused expressions. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not making any sense. It's just that I can't tell you what's going on yet. I can't risk altering the timeline that much before I know for sure if it's already been changed."

Harry felt hot anger steam inside of him. "What?" His voice was practically a hiss. "After all of that, you're just going to-"

"I know it makes me the biggest hypocrite." _Harry_ sighed. "But I can't try to change something this big until I know for sure that Voldemort's already done something."

"And my word's not enough?"

"We know that Voldemort is thinking about doing something." _Harry_ explained, his patience finally peaking through. "But he hasn't actually done it yet."

"That's ridiculous!" Harry cried out. "We're just going to sit here and let him do who knows what? Besides, of course something's changed!"

Teddy, torn between wishing to back-up his godfather but agreeing with Harry, spoke up. "How about a compromise? You think we'll want to act on the knowledge. So how about when we notice that something major has diverged off of the original timeline, you'll tell us about these objects. That way, it won't matter if we act on the info."

_Harry_ hesitated before finally nodding. "Once we know the past has been changed–fundamentally, irretrievably changed–I'll tell you everything."

* * *

**A/N: Da da DUNNN... *dur dur***

**Poor Older Harry; timeline worries weren't enough, so of course there'd be an unknown horcrux to hunt down. An unknown horcrux which I'm finding far too entertaining to write, especially considering its enormously morbid and macabre nature. It won't be in the story for awhile, but are there any bets about what it will be?**

**And remember way back when Voldemort 'figured out' the mental connection? Yeah, that's what sucks about Harry's visions (besides the pain thing): he never seems to remember the most important/crucial bits from them.**

**Also, I tried to 'fill in' a few plot holes by lamp-shading them. Just so it's clear: yes, I completely agree with the reviewers who criticized how 'open' the Potters were with future info. It was a mistake, but when I was first writing the idea of the Great Hall's reactions was too amusing to pass up. But to fix it now would mean rewriting at least five chapters and rethinking much of the plot. So I'm sorry, but you'll have to settle with Harry 'realizing' it was an idiotic move. This is a fanfic after all–suspensions of disbelief are to be expected.**


	17. Granger and Danger

**A/N: 'A soul-stuffed severed thumb'? Rebecca Calzone, you're brilliant. Scary, but oh-so brilliant. Damn, now my horcrux doesn't seem nearly as gruesome as I'd originally thought! It's still terribly angsty, but I think Rebecca's beaten me in terms of goriness :D**

**I'm up to my neck with essays (Holy Hippogriffs! Rome fell, okay? Or maybe not really, but whatevs. That's my point: there's no need to overanalyze that and force us poor students into all-nighters!), but I thought I'd take a bit more time out to post this chapter, since I've been buying the finishing touches for my Rita Skeeter outfit for my uni's Hogsmeade Weekend Charity Fundraiser anyway. I've gotta say, I make a cute blonde–especially when the nutty wig is paired w/peacock earrings, beetle necklace, quick-quotes quill, cherry red lipstick and crazy glasses. All I need now are high heels and a cockney accent, and my tabloid journalist costume will be complete! I'm so tempted to interview peeps with 'AVPS''s version of dear Rita's cougar-licious accent: "Why if it isn't Harry Freakin' Potter, the lad-who-lived himself. Like Betty Crocker, I wanna eat you up!"**

**Oh my Rowling, this 'A Very Potter Musical/Sequel' quoting is getting a bit out of control. Especially w/my blatant plagiarism of Darren Criss' wonderful lyrics in the following few chapters...**

**General Disclaimer: 'Here I am, face to face with a situation I never thought I'd ever see. How an author can take a ship and make it horrible to me. But it's like my eyes have been transfigured, something deep inside has changed. They've been opened wide, but hold that trigger...this could mean, danger! For I'm writing canon couples, writing canon couples, writing canon couples, like I swore I'd never do!' - Which is how you know I'm not Rowling. Technically, I guess I could still be a member of StarKid. Though I'm totally not. Sucks, don't it.**

* * *

The next few days passed in a blur. Aside from the occasional question, most students didn't bother the Parker kids about their mysterious entrance. This was likely through a mixture of the new DADA Professors' instant popular, the Parkers' quick integration into the boy-who-lived/boy-who-lies close-knit group, and because the kids had a tendency to spawn disaster in their wake.

Not that Hogwarts' rumor grapevine wasn't interested in the arrivals' mysterious past: the gossipers were just careful to not bother them about it. As the Parker kids were normally in the company of the Weasley Twins, assorted other Weasleys, Luna Lovegood, Peeves, Harry Potter, and Severus Snape (as was the case with the youngest redhead girl), this reluctance was understandable. Still, a mysterious entrance is only interesting for a certain amount of time, and sooner rather than later new giggled whispers began to swiftly circulate. Al and Lily were typically excluded thanks to their age, but the potential of the other three was quickly spotted by Hogwarts' witches' keen sights.

Teddy London gained the biggest fan club. But this was hardly surprising, for when he showed up to breakfast the second day with bright neon green hair, the 'secret' that he was a metamorphmagus somehow got out. That he was so young, smart enough to teach, but hilarious to boot made half of the female population (and not a few of the males) fall head over heels. The current competition was to see who could first get a 'detention' with this oh-so-elusive teacher.

James Parker was also well-liked. Taken under the wing of the Weasley Twins, every girl who took a shine to the class clown was instantly onboard with this new, very handsome addition. As Jamie spent much of his free time in the library–poring over every book with even a mention of the Deathly Hallows–he also had the 'more-bookworm-inclined' girls wrapped around his finger. In addition, without trying he gained the 'wanna-be-damsels-in-distress''s attention for, because he talked to Harry Potter quite often, more than a few people commented on the boys' similar appearances. Not that Jamie realized what all these girls were giggling about: Al and Lily were quite disappointed with him.

Henry Parker was not without his own admirers, for it seemed that many a student wanted to be the teacher's pet. The scars only added to his popularity. After all, here was a DADA Professor who was kind, funny, and actually knew what he was talking about. Plus, he wasn't hard on the eyes–even though he was a wee bit old. Yet his fan club knew that their cause was hopeless, for unlike Teddy and James, the oldest Parker was definitely married. And happily too, as indicated by his wedding ring. Quite a few of his daydreaming students were crushed when they spotted that glint of silver on his finger.

Not without groupies of their own, Harry Potter and his friends had managed to once again surmount the odds and had fallen into a familiar routine, which consisted of stubbornly ignoring the fact that anything insane was happening. Well, aside from Ron–but Harry figured that normality would have been ruptured even further if his best friend hadn't gleefully tortured him with hints about the future at every moment. Not that there weren't changes: the Parker kids, Ginny, Neville, and Luna were more closely involved in their group, and Ron's and Hermione's arguments had escalated up to a nuclear boiling point (for they were determined to prove James and the unrelenting sexual tension wrong).

The positive side of the ensuing insanity and screaming wars was that Harry and Ginny began talking more, bonding over their annoyance with their best friends' obliviousness. Both of them did, however, take the time to chat to their respective Ravenclaw others-and with Michael Corner having a sense of self-preservation, Ginny and her boyfriend tended to be absent from the Gryffindor Common Room for long periods of time. Or maybe she was just trying to avoid Ron's and Hermione's relentless, ear-shattering shrieking.

As much as Harry liked Cho, he had to admit that she wasn't the most interesting Ravenclaw who had 'joined' their group in the past few days. Indeed, Luna Lovegood might have even beat out the Parker kids in terms of pure oddness. At first he had been hesitant to hang around the blonde, but with James' insistence that his 'Aunt Luna' was amazingly spectacular, he finally relented. And Merlin, he was already glad that he did. For in days filled with listening to his best friends shout, exchanging small talk with Cho, trying to figure out whether his future kids were joking about their 'illegal-and-most-possibly-fatal' schemes, avoiding his older self and future godson like the plague, and feeling oddly lonely whenever Ginny was off with her boyfriend, chatting with Luna about crazy theories and surprisingly insightful theories came as a welcome relief.

Unfortunately, Luna was currently nowhere to be seen, and there was no ducking away from the arguing Ron and Hermione.

"It's the first week!" Ron threw his hands up in protest, almost knocking Harry's glasses off in the process. "Oh, sorry mate."

Hermione was practically steaming, sending little firsties scurrying away as the three of them walked down the corridor. "I'm not saying you're behind, but this is a fresh beginning! You should take advantage of it and not leave your coursework to the last minute like always!"

"But it's tradition." Ron argued as they neared the Transfiguration classroom. "Besides, I always end up with decent marks–not all of us are secret Ravenclaws."

"Oh, haha." Hermione said, dry annoyance leaking through her every word. "Well, there will be no copying from the 'secret Ravenclaw' this year."

"I never copy you! I-"

"Guys, we're here." Harry said tiredly, but neither of his friends took any notice. Rolling his eyes, he moved into the classroom by himself, letting the door slam closed as the continued shrieks in the hallway came through the wall.

"Oh, get a room, will you. Seventh year? James and Al had better have been joking."

* * *

"As this spell can have dangerous consequences, there will be no misbehaving this period." Professor McGonagall's gaze pierced the room. "Not that there is ever any ruckus in this class, correct?"

McGonagall stared pointedly at Harry and Ron, who looked innocently back at her. Ron noticed that Hermione was only just able to hold back a groan at the boys. He blinked, realizing that he had been staring at her, and quickly looked back to the front of the classroom.

Except-except Ron couldn't help but keep glancing at Hermione, and his attention became fixed once she absently nibbled on the end of her feather quill. Damn Hermione for having such distracting lips.

Wait, distracting lips? Ron's eyes widened as he noticed that he was still staring at Hermione, and quickly wrenched his gaze away. Why did he keep looking at her, and at her lips?

Ron flipped through a few pages of the transfiguration book, but his thoughts were as far from the lesson as could be. Here he was, face to face with a situation he never thought he'd ever see.

James had probably just been joking, but his words remained at the forefront of Ron's mind. He took another small glance at the brunette. 'Strange, how just a sentence could take Hermione and make her nothing less than ... beautiful to me.'

Ron gulped as reality hit him like a raging hippogriff. Suddenly, the pains in his stomach whenever Hermione was impassionately arguing, not to mention the mess with Victor Krum, made sense.

'Damn. This could mean danger.'

With this revelation, he felt as though something deep inside had changed. As though his eyes had been opened wide and-

"Who would want to transfigure their eyes?" Harry whispered, mixing slight nervousness with sarcasm. "I'll pass at shooting a spell I don't know at my face, thanks."

Ron blinked. "Transfiguring eyes?"

Hermione quietly huffed at her best friends. "Yes, Ron. It is the lesson. And Harry, we're learning the theory so that this disguise spell won't be unknown. Besides, it's not as though anyone is going to poke an eye out!"

Harry just shrugged. "There's always a first."

"Why do you have to be so pessimistic?" Hermione said in exasperation before turning to Ron. "And please tell me you know what we're doing."

"Of course! Simple charm really."

Hermione looked down at Ron's desk. "We're on page 55. Not 210." She whispered drily. "And we're only studying the theory; the spell is N.E.W.T. level human transfiguration. Did you hear a single thing the Professor said?"

* * *

That night was a particularly cozy one in the Gryffindor Common Room. Well, mostly. Harry tried to help Ginny with her Defense work, but for some reason they both kept going off on silly tangents. Teddy lounged on the couch next to them, having decided that catching up with his godsiblings' insanity was more tempting than spending an evening working out lesson plans. The closest he would come to anything resembling school was to cheekily point out mistakes in Hermione's Ancient Rune coursework, much to her annoyance. Especially since she couldn't technically reprimand a teacher for being childish.

The only person not enjoying this night in the Common Room was a huffy redhead, who had stubbornly placed himself apart from the group–much to his friends' irritation, though Harry and Ginny would privately admit that they preferred this awkward silence to their eardrums being blasted open, no sonorous required.

Ron was in fact so entrenched in his thoughts that he didn't notice Al and Lily get up off the floor in front of the couch the others were sitting on, come up behind him, exchange an exasperated look, and cast a muffliato around the small group of armchairs.

"Someone got hit by the 'Jamie lorry'." Lily said flippantly, making Ron jump and jerk around. She just sat on the armrest, not paying his reaction any notice.

"Wha-what?" Ron spluttered at the two siblings who had appeared out of nowhere.

"You've been staring at her all night." Al took a seat in the next armchair and stretched out. "I'd stop doing it, you're starting to creep her out."

Ron, realizing that his gaze was again resting on Hermione, jerked his stare around. He opened his mouth to deny it, before realizing it was hopeless. He shifted tactics. "How'd you know?"

"Kind of hard to miss." Al said. "But to be fair, we do have plenty of experience in recognizing victims of the 'Jamie lorry'-"

"The what?" Ron questioned, completely lost this time.

"It's practically family lore in the future." Lily explained. "See, James is very observant, but has no common sense and tends to blurt out whatever is on his mind. He's like Auntie Luna, only worse because he's always around."

"So the 'Jamie lorry'?" Ron asked hesitantly, not sure he wanted to know.

"It's when someone gets blindsided by something James says before realizing that he really, really shouldn't have opened his big mouth." Al said with an annoyed sigh. "He's such a Gryffindor. No sense of self-preservation at all."

"Usually he picks up on relationships or tension and the like." Lily swung her feet against the side of the armchair. "Nearly got Teddy killed by blurting out that he shouldn't be doing 'all that gross stuff' with Victoire. Uncle Bill was not happy."

"What does this have to do with me?"

Al looked pityingly at his poor, oblivious young uncle. "You were hit by the 'Jamie lorry', and are still in shocked denial."

"Don't worry," Lily said with a not-quite-sinister grin, "we're experts at fixing our brother's messes. We know how to handle this."

Ron slowly edged away from the two Slytherins, but found he couldn't get very far with the armrest in his way. "I really don't think...it's fine..."

"We've done this hundreds of times." Al said reassuringly.

"Literally." Lily mumbled under her breath. "Stupid brother with his stupid Sight."

"Wait," Ron stared at Lily in amazement, his problem momentarily forgotten, "you're kidding. James is a _seer_?"

"No, he's not." Al sent his sister a peeved look. "Ignore her, it's just a bad ongoing joke. See, James can be insanely observant, and the future Daily Prophet drew their own conclusions about this."

"The git was jumping out at people and screaming 'The GRIM!' for a week after that blasted article." Lily grimaced.

"Point is, no, he's not a seer," Al groaned, "and don't you dare mention that word in front of him or he'll drive everyone mental. Back to the actual topic: we're here to help you deal with the aftermath of Jamie."

"And," Ron said, even though his guts, instincts, and common sense were begging him to run and not look back, "how are you going to do that?"

"We have a plan." Lily nodded simply. "Our usual plan, but it always works."

"Deny, deny, deny, hex, _obliviate_." Al continued. "James announced what everyone was thinking about you and Aunt Hermione. Since you're not ready to admit you love her we'll do the not-so-direct approach in containing this mess."

"I don't lov-" but Ron's token protest was ignored and interrupted.

"The first part is easy." Lily added on with barely a pause. "Call Jamie an idiot, say that he has no idea what he's talking about, and throw in a few threats and hexes for good measure."

Al picked up from there. "Jamie's blurts usually come out of nowhere, where everyone's blindsided by them. Unfortunately, your situation is different since all of Hogwarts has likely placed bets on when you and Aunt Hermione will finally snog. So getting rid of Jamie's accusations won't cut out the root of the problem."

Lily was nodding along with her brother. "Exactly. What we need is a massive but memory-selective obliviation. Don't worry, we've done it loads of times before. As easy as flying. We just need to get rid of any inkling the students and teachers have that you two make goggly eyes at each other while bickering."

Al ignored Ron's horrified look and intermittent spluttering speech. "That should take care of most of the problem, but it'd be best to set up a false trail just in case our memory charm starts to leak. How do you like Lavender Brown? I noticed her eyeing you at breakfast."

At this, Ron finally broke from his stupefaction. "THE HELL! Are you two insane? Obliviating, denying ... _Lavender_? That's your bloody plan?"

Lily crossed her arms with a humph. "We're geniuses, thank you very much. The plan is just too cunning for a Gryffindor like yourself to understand."

"Exactly." Al stood up and tugged his sister off the armrest. He turned back to face Ron while extinguishing the muffling spell. "As fair warning, we always fix up James' messes. So if you don't take the direct approach and tell her what's on your mind, we'll set our brilliant plan in motion ourselves."

Ron barely even considered his next action, or noticed that the Parker siblings were biting back grins. All he knew was that in the next second he was bolting across the Common Room and leaping onto a certain occupied couch...

* * *

Ginny winced. "Blasted stomachache."

Harry looked at her in concern. "Should you go see Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, I'll be fine." She sighed, rubbing her chest. "It was just one burst of pain–but I've been feeling queasy for the last half an hour or so. I'm sure it will fade soon."

Teddy and James, who had been watching Al and Lily suspiciously, flung themselves off the couch as they saw the racing Weasley heading their way. Ginny, finally looking up, saw Ron speeding towards her just in time to give a small cry. She tried to scramble away, but it was only thanks to Harry's quick reflexes and tug that the two Weasleys didn't collide. Course, Ginny and Harry tumbled onto the floor in a heap, but she definitely preferred landing on and winding the boy-who-lived than being squashed by her brother.

Hermione, immersed in an Ancient Runes textbook and not as aware of her surroundings as her friends, only noticed something was amiss when Ronald Weasley collided into her.

BANG!

"AHH!" Hermione scrambled backward over the couch. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Uhhh." Ron could only groan, clutching at his head which had rammed into the rather heavy book. "Sorry about that..."

"Sorry about that?" Ginny cried from the floor, rubbing her neck as well. "What is wrong with you!"

"Um, Gin?" Harry lightly groaned. "I don't mind being used as a pillow, but you're kinda squashing me."

It took a moment for Ginny's thoughts to catch up to her adrenaline. Pillow? What pillow? She had fallen on a soft, warm thing- The youngest Weasley looked down, slowly thinking that it looked much more like Quidditch toned abs than a cushion-

Eyes widening, she instantly rolled off of the winded Gryffindor. "Harry! Sorry! I-"

"Don't worry about it." Harry sat up slowly and rubbed his chest, before looking up at his best friend in disbelief. "Ron, what the hell?"

But Ron wasn't paying any attention to Harry, Ginny, the sniggering Parker kids, or the staring Common Room. All he had eyes for was the brunette bookworm, squashed between him and the back of the couch, and looking ready to hex him.

"Hermione, I'm sorry about that. Really. I just, it just, those bloody Slytherins-" Ron stuttered, his mind drawing a blank.

Merlin, he didn't know what to say! It was Hermione, she was here, staring at him like he'd lost his mind! And he wanted to say so much to her, explain everything, but the dratted words wouldn't come.

A few moments passed as Ron's mind raced wildly, silence enveloping the Common Room.

"Hermione, I-" he tried again, but knew it was useless. A thought came into his head. A reckless, impulsive, highly Gryffindor thought that would likely get him cursed...

"-oh, blast it."

And with that, Ron leaned in, gently pulled a shocked Hermione forward over the small gap between them, and kissed her. He never noticed Lee's wolf-calls, Fred and George exchanging money, Lily and Al exchanging money, Harry's sigh of relief or Ginny's groan of, "It's about time already."

All Ron knew was the touch of Hermione's bushy hair beneath his fingers, her lips exploring his own, her impossibly soft skin and loving, warm brown eyes soaking into his perception. It was natural, perfect. Much better than any convoluted plot those dratted Slytherins could come up with.

But his mind only dwelled on that for a moment, before it was once again swept into bliss.

Meanwhile, Al was shaking his head in amusement. "Every time. It works every single time."

Lily counted out the galleons she had won. "I told you that. You should never bet against me."

"Well, yeah." Al frowned at the lost money. "But in our own time people know we're weird, or it's at least our reputation. Ron believed that we were encouraging him to do that ridiculous plan after knowing us for a few days?"

"Don't dwell on it, Albie." Lily replied, watching her young aunt and uncle kissing with a wistful sigh. "Just know that Jamie's stupidity and our wonderful plan to get knuckleheads to admit their feelings is pure genius."

"True, true." Al took a look at his young mum and dad quietly chatting. "Shame we can't use it on them."

Lily followed her brother's gaze. "They're both ridiculously stubborn and oblivious. Can't we just lock them in a broom cupboard?"

Al shook his head. "Too cliché. Besides, we did that with Teddy and Vicky."

Lily sighed. "Right good matchmakers we are. Can get anyone together but 'them'."

"It'll work out." Al then paused, considered what they were talking about, and groaned. "Wait, this is so wrong. What's gotten into me? I should be relieved that they aren't attached by the lips–not trying to push them together!"

Lily sent him an annoyed look. "Al, I love you, but sometimes you can be such a bloody boy."

"Language, Lils." He leaned away from her swipe as they headed back to the couch, and both were so distracted that they didn't notice Gryffindor Tower's newest couple head for the portrait hole.

* * *

**A/N: I can't believe I'm writing Hr/R. This is so out of character! I must be under imperius, confundus, or someone's erased and replaced all my memories. Because this is beyond surreal and, and...wrong for me. I'm the girl who's always looking for plot holes and vehemently arguing against every single canon couple-and now I'm writing a fanfic chock full of them.**

**With that being said, yes, I'm doing canon couples. Don't worry, H/G will be up shortly. It's practically overflowing with fluff and violent tendencies. Ginny can be one scary woman...**


	18. Floo and Flight

**General Disclaimer: I'm slowly understanding how utterly annoying it is to keep track of so many characters. So that's how you know I'm not Rowling: I would have kept the HP charrie list short and sweet. Then there would be no worries of accidentally leaving out a dozen or so 'crucial' plot elements! *headdesk***

**A/N: So, back in the future...**

* * *

_Tori looked over Audrey's shoulder and jotted out an incorrect equation. "Building it shouldn't be overly complex, it just takes a great deal of time-"_

_"Let me go." Ginny said without hesitance, reaching into her pocket to feel the piece of old parchment beneath her fingertips. She found it relaxing–reassuring–to reread Harry's letter, even though she had practically memorised it ages ago. Just touching it made her feel more stable, more in control. "Tell me how to build it, and I'll go back." (From Ch. 12: Paradoxes and Pathways)_

* * *

"Are you sure this will work?" Ron Weasley said nervously, looking around his sister's living room (or what was left of it) in worry. George Weasley had his head in the empty fireplace, gazing at the back carvings in fascination.

"Positive." Audrey Weasley didn't look up from the runes she was tracing onto the empty mantlepiece. "Absolutely positive, no sweat, everything is going entirely to plan."

"But it-I don't want Ginny to get into trouble." the redhead tried to find the right words. "It all seems too easy."

Tori Malfoy huffed, glancing down at the two sister-in-laws. "_That's_ what's worrying you? Let me put you at ease. This," she shook her wand and silver sparks flew down from the ceiling to the floor, "is not easy. The theories alone took three blasted months–on top of years of previous research–and certainly wasn't easy. Dosing Ginny with calming potions wasn't easy. Dosing that dog with an even larger amount of sleeping potions wasn't easy. Spending a month trying to get permission to even _do this_ wasn't easy. Fighting against the press to get to the Potter house with its disconnected floo, anti-apparation charms, and every ward known to mankind wasn't _easy_!"

For perhaps the first time in her life, Astoria Malfoy was frazzled. Terribly frazzled. More so than when her mother-in-law visited, or when dear, dear Draco was insisting they call poor Scorpius, Uranus. The 'muggleborn' joke had gone over his head.

In sheer contrast to Tori's 'stress-and-work-related-almost-breakdown', Hermione Granger-Weasley seemed to be in her element. Not that intense worry about her brother-in-law and his family wasn't etched across her face, but she still seemed at home in this chaotic situation. For the first time in years, Tori flash-backed to her Hogwarts days and all of the rumours that had circulated about the Golden Trio. Just how much of that gossip had been true?

"Come on Tori," Hermione flicked her wand, creating another cascade of ancient runes between them as they hung upside down from the ceiling. "That's what Ron does: he worries. And admit it, using the floo with this is highly unorthodox. Besides, this situation could have been even more difficult–our kids are safe at Hogwarts, Andromeda's watching the younger ones, and we don't have to worry about any of them spying on us under disillusionment charms."

Tori clutched at the chandelier and sighed. "This entire thing is unorthodox, Merlin knows how it's going to turn out. But yes, at least the kids aren't underfoot. Right before Scorpius left for Hogwarts I caught him and Rose sneaking into the Ministry. Merlin, if he'd gone through the wrong turning door who knows what might have happened."

Hermione nodded in agreement, but quickly stopped when it made her head pound. "With those two seeking out adventures, I'm shocked the two of them weren't in Gryffindor."

"You and me both." Ron grumbled, but no one heard him.

"Those two were already halfway to the time magic centre." Audrey spoke up glibly, decorating the fireplace with varied figures which, Tori half-suspected, she had made up on the spot. "Very smart. I remember when Rosie was little, she and Al stole Percy's wand and had a competition of who could say the most interesting spells. I can't recall which one set the pond on fire, but I know that Rosie created that lovely Mad Matter tea party. The Dormouse was such a dear dinner guest. And when Scorpius first visited Tori at work, he snuck away and managed to spot a paradox with three of the Prophecies in five minutes flat! Goodness, we should recruit them."

"NO!" Hermione and Tori yelled as one, startling the Weasley boys. There was a thump as George made a connection with the top of the fireplace.

"It was only a suggestion." Audrey shrugged, nonplussed. The smile returned to her lips as she inspected the room. George slowly emerged out, covered with ashes, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. "Are we done? I'll go get Ginny!"

"No wait, Audrey!" Hermione called out from the ceiling, but the other woman had already raced from the room. With one more glance around, she sighed and levitated herself down. Tori followed suit, sending one last inscribed rune behind her as she went.

A few minutes passed before Audrey reentered, a swaying Ginny Potter at her side with Molly Weasley worriedly walking beside her daughter. Tori felt a stab of guilt at her earlier thoughts bemoaning her stress. For, no matter how disheveled she felt or looked, it was nothing compared to her friend.

Ron quickly came up and George grabbed hold of his sister's slightly too thin and pale arm. Ginny kept smiling in her potion-induced state, blinking loquaciously and not really comprehending anything around her. Tori wished she could keep her in this forced sense of calm, but the time for that had passed.

Ginny kept blinking and turned to face George. She poked him. He blinked, smiled slightly, and poked her back. She grinned widely and a poking battle instantly commenced.

"George," Hermione stared at the siblings in befuddlement, "she's half-delirious. But you have no excuse!"

"Honey," Ron said tiredly as George and Ginny rolled around on the floor, beginning to attack each other with stray pads of paper, "remember who you're talking to? And forget about delirium: Ginny's always been up for a tickling match."

Tori wanted to step in with a sexual immuendo, before remembering that Ginny's two brothers were in the room and likely wouldn't appreciate her allusion. Even though it was a bloody perfect opening. She almost wished that her husband was here. Sure, Draco was still only barely civil with the Weasleys and Potters, but that just meant he wouldn't hesitate in saying utterly hilarious insulting statements in that sexy drawl of his.

The tickling match only paused when the door burst open to emit a gaggle of Weasleys.

"Finally!" Mrs. Weasley huffed, crossing her arms at her wayward husband, sons, and daughters-in-law. "Why, may I ask, are you so late? You might have missed Ginny!"

"But mum, we didn't." Percy explained as he clutched his chest, trying to catch his breath. "And we, we were working on this, and-" he at last caught notice of the room "-and um, Gin, what happened to your living room?"

Ginny, having George in a headlock, didn't answer.

Bill glanced at his sister and ear-less sibling, and shrugged. "Perce, I think that's one of those questions you don't want answered."

Unlike Bill, Fleur peered at the two wrestling Weasleys in surprise.

"Isn't someone going to..." Fleur began, but was stopped from a shake of Arthur's head.

Angelina sighed. "Don't bother asking. Just accept that all blood Weasleys are closet rugby players."

"Rugby?" Arthur looked over in interest.

"It's a muggle sport." Audrey explained before Hermione could, levitating a last batch of scrolls and loose runes off into a corner, while blowing a kiss to her husband. "About as violent as Quidditch and–wait. Angelina, how'd you know about it?"

The witch opened her mouth to answer, but a soft voice from the floor beat her to it.

"Last summer, we tried to channel the kids' chaotic energy into something less explosive." Ginny's voice still held a faint glimmer of happy delirium, but from her downcast eyes it was clear that the cheering potions were rapidly fading. "Ha-Harry taught them football, but Fred and Ja–" she hiccupped "–Jamie would only play rugby."

Angelina tried to put on a carefree smile. "I think they were only set on practicing it because Al and Louis kept beating them."

George half-hugged his sister, both of them still sitting on the floor. "Don't know why you married that bloke, Gin. Really, teaching your kids muggle sports when there's Quidditch to play? Mental."

Ginny laughed slightly, finally wiping her tears away.

"Can't believe I'm saying this, but George's right." Ron looped his arm around Hermione's waist while looking amazed at his statement. "Harry's great, but completely barmy. You've got to get to them before he muggle-ifies their young, impressionable minds!"

"'Muggle-ifies their young, impressionable minds'?" Hermione turned disbelievingly to face her sheepishly grinning husband. "You're an idiot."

"But I'm _your_ idiot."

"Hem hem!" The Weasleys jumped as one, swirling around to face a smirking Tori.

"Sorry, but it was appropriate." She shrugged, ignoring the glares, and not looking very sorry at all. "As lovely as this is, we really don't have a long window of time. So lets say our good byes and send Ginny back so that she can make sure her kids haven't lost any of their Quidditch obsessiveness. Because that is clearly the most important thing."

From Tori's expression, the Weasley's couldn't quite decide if she was being serious or sarcastic.

"Just one moment, we have a little surprise." Arthur stepped up, pulling a sheath of parchment from an enlarged pocket. "Ginny, this was why we were running late. We wanted to get something to help you from the Ministry."

"And since what we were doing was highly illegal," Bill said with a nonchalant air, "the girls came with us to-distract-any potential problems."

Angelina finally snickered, pulling her amused husband from the floor. "Fleur put on her charms at one end of the corridor, but I had a different kind of, erm, 'charm' waiting on my end."

Ginny looked at her family in bewilderment. "Highly illegal? What in Merlin's name did you do! We're in enough trouble with the time travel."

"I think you'll like this." Percy smiled, looking far too comfortable with breaking various wizarding laws. "With Harry having issues with the Hallows, we guessed that you two would need a way to get to the Veil of Death in a time when the Ministry, well, hated him." He looked a bit comfortable at the end, but cheered up slightly when Audrey whispered something in his ear.

Fleur grinned at Ginny conspiratorially. "_Zis_," she pointed proudly to the parchment her father-in-law held, "is all ze records for ze Département of Mysteries!"

Tori raised an eyebrow, especially when she caught the guilty look on Audrey's features. Ah, oh well. They were already toeing the line of legality–why not go all the way over? Besides, she had an alibi and plausible deniability on her side, so there was nothing to worry about.

"Well, not all." Angelina piped in. "That would be quite a lot. But we did get the passwords, personnel names, and other useful information from the end of 1995 into 1996. And Fleur, quit it with 'ze French accent'–you don't have to entrance any more men for our cover."

"I don't mind it." Bill smiled softly at his blushing wife. "Reminds me of when we first met. Not to mention it's rather sexy."

"Far too much information." George groaned, clapping a hand over his ear. "Gin, we were all collaborating on the Ministry project: everyone just figured Ron and I could 'cheer you up' the most."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Funny, I thought the reason you two stayed behind was because Ron attracts almost as much trouble as Harry, and that you would likely destroy a Ministry Department or two 'by accident'."

Ron made a token–though weak–protest, while George merely waved away the accusation. "Been there, done that."

"I think that was his point." Audrey said in amusement.

"Again people," Tori piped in, "this is great and all, but the small timeframe?"

"Right." Hermione said briskly, a few tears running down her cheeks. "Right, everything's set. Ginny, do you have-"

But the youngest Weasley quickly interrupted. "If you run down the list of everything I'm bringing, I might just go mental. Yes, I have all the supplies: the books and charts, the money, tons of food, even the shrunken broomsticks and numerous dark magic detectors. Oh, and the assorted Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' products. Don't worry."

If Ginny thought she'd be in for a Hermione-lecture, she was disappointed. For instead, she was practically run over as the brunette grabbed her into a bear-hug.

"Don't do anything stupid!" The other woman said, finally leaning back and most assuredly crying. "And dear Merlin, _please_ stop Harry from wrecking the timeline. And get him out of the morbid mood that we just know he's in, and get rid of those blasted Hallows! Ginny, if you or your dratted husband pull a heroic stunt and get yourselves killed, I'm going to resurrect you so I can murder you myself! Do you hear me?"

Ron, in slight amusement, pulled the hyperventilating brunette away before tightly hugging his sister. "Listen to Hermione." He whispered. "She's mental, but knows what she's talking about. Don't take any risks."

"You're one to talk." She whispered back, but felt a warm glow in her stomach as she returned the embrace.

George stepped up next with a wide smile. "Merlin, I'm just picturing all of us in 1995. Harry was still a midget, Percy was a git, Ron and Hermione were bickering constantly, Charlie was in Romania-huh, those last two didn't change." He swept his little sister into a tight hug, before whispering in her ear: "Say hello to Fred for me."

"Will do." Ginny replied back in a choked voice. George at last pulled away, to only be grabbed by Angelina who whispered something to him. The other Weasleys pretended not to notice his red eyes.

Bill and Percy also said their farewells, and Ginny's sisters-in-law plus Tori (and Hermione once more) gave her a choking group hug. Finally, Arthur and Molly stepped forward. Molly was making no effort to hold back her tears, and when she pulled Ginny into a tight hug it was clear that she never wanted to let her go. But at last, she lifted her head up to look at her daughter with a hungry gaze, as though she did not know when she would next see her precious child.

"Be safe." Molly stuttered, the strength in her voice collapsing. "Dear Merlin, Ginny be safe! Don't get involved in the war, what's done is done. Find your family and please, please just come back."

"Mollywobbles," Arthur whispered to his tearful wife while also pulling his crying daughter into an embrace, "it will be all right. Oh, Ginny-bear-"

"I hate that name." Ginny smiled, hiccupping slightly.

"Too bad." Arthur only tightened the hug. "I love it. I love you so much, and I swear, if it was anyone but Harry and the kids..."

"...we would never let you go." Molly finished, tears leaking through her words. "But we love them too. Just bring them back and keep yourself in one piece."

Ginny pulled away slightly–though even that took an effort. She looked unsure about her next words, but drew a deep breath and decided to continue on. "Haven't you wondered...you said there's a way to create an alternate future. If we can't have Fred back, and give Teddy his parents and Harry his godfather: can't I make it so our other selves do have them?"

The Weasleys looked stricken. It was Bill who finally spoke, stepping up to his sister hesitantly. "Gin, I don't think any of us disagree with you. But you can't risk yourself-"

"I won't!" Ginny said, her eyes flashing.

"-I know, I know." Bill said coaxingly. "I only meant that you can't take a risk, especially since you don't know how anything will change the future. If an 'alternative reality' can be created, great, but we don't know that for certain."

"It seems pretty likely!" Ginny continued. "And my family has been back there for ages. What are the chances that the timeline hasn't already been irreversibly changed?"

Silence fell.

"If that's the case," it was Percy who now hesitantly spoke, "then try to make their future better. Don't get into the fighting, but if you can change things without being hurt–" his voice faltered "–if you could change my younger self's mind. Maybe, maybe he could help you with the Ministry..."

Arthur placed a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder, before turning to his daughter. "I think that's a good compromise. _If_ you know the future has already been altered, than I don't know how you could resist changing it for the better. But please Ginny, please don't take any dangerous risks."

"I won't dad." Ginny said softly. "Percy, I'll make your younger self see sense. George..." she met her brother's red-rimmed eyes with her own "...I'll change it. I swear to you, I'll change it."

"There might be a problem with this." Ron spoke up hesitantly, looking as though this was the last thing he wanted to say. "If you start changing this 'alternative' future, the order of events will change."

"That is kind of the point." Angelina pointed out, still embracing her husband.

Ron shook his head. "No, what I mean is _everything_ will be out-of-order. You'll have to find a different way to get to the horcruxes, a different way to take down Voldemort..." his voice stalled with choked back emotion "...Gin, in 1995 Harry still had that-that _thing_ in his head. It was basically blasted luck that he survived in our timeline. If the events are mixed up, he won't 'be able' to walk defenceless into the forest, and he probably won't have all three Hallows when he gets hit by the killing curse."

Silence once more enveloped the room.

Ginny bit her fingernail anxiously. "With Harry's help, I can take care of the horcruxes. The Hallows we should probably leave alone, and aside from a few events I won't touch the war."

"And about Harry himself?" Ron asked softly. "Ginny, this is taking a lot of risks. Once you start changing things, other, different deaths might occur. Merlin knows how many close calls we all had."

"I can take care of it!" Ginny said sharply, tears stinging her eyes. "I'll figure out a way to get the horcrux out of Harry, and I won't let anyone else die!"

"You might not have a choice." Hermione said quietly, taking her husband's shaking hand in her own. "But just remember that you'll return to _this_ future. So if something does go wrong-"

"Nothing will go wrong." Ginny looked down at the floor, clenching her fingers anxiously. "Damnit, I won't let them go through what we had to. Sirius, Fred, Tonks, Remus, Colin-" she flung her red hair back, gazing at her family with tears rolling down her cheeks, "-don't try and tell me you don't think the same! Merlin, if I can only save Harry..."

"That's it." Ron slowly moved forward to his sister in dawning realisation. "Even aside from the deaths, you want to stop the Deathly Hallows fiasco."

"Not only that." Ginny protested, but her stance weakened under Ron's understanding gaze. Finally, her voice gave way. "I-it almost broke him."

"I know."

"It still haunts him."

Ron nodded, pain crossing his eyes. "Yeah, I know."

Ginny looked at her brother with a sudden burst of anger. "He's your best friend! Wouldn't you do anything to stop it?"

Ron gently held his distressed sister's shoulders. "Merlin Gin, of course. I wasn't arguing about any of that. It's just that with the 'Potter Luck', if one thing is changed, a different thing is sure to happen to Harry."

"What?" Ginny questioned, but seemed to calm marginally. "What else could bloody well happen to him?"

"I, I don't know." Ron rubbed his eyes. "It's just a gut feeling, all right? So please Gin, be careful and think about the consequences."

Ginny looked at her brother seriously, but still snorted. "I think your wife's rubbing off on you. 'Think about the consequences'?"

"It's good advice." Hermione said lightly, coming up behind her husband.

"I second that." Tori finally spoke up. "But, seriously people, we have to get going. So Gin, get a last round of hugs, grab your sack, and step up to the fireplace..."

* * *

**A/N: Blatant foreshadowing? Meh, as though you peeps don't know I love angst. So yes, I do have something in mind for poor, poor Harry. _Ron_ is quite right to worry...**

**But that won't happen for quite a while. So as of now, _Harry_ will simply get a wonderful surprise.**


	19. Romance and Reunion

**A/N: Ok, this is highly out of character but I'm obsessed with Taylor Swift's and Nick Jonas's new songs! But if anyone's listened to the soundtracks of 'The Hunger Games' or 'Smash', then you know exactly what I'm talking about. Still, I feel like I've entered The Twilight Zone...**

**General Disclaimer: Since I am anxiously awaiting the public opening of Pottermore (because my luck sucks, the beta version is evil, and the wizarding god hates me), I'm probably not Rowling. If I'm Sorted into Gryffindor or Hufflepuff I very well might crucio someone just to prove that the Hat made a horrible, horrible mistake. Actually, scratch that. If I'm a Badger I can create a secret army of hardworking, loyal peeps from within, which totally wouldn't be a bad thing. But if some stupid computer program decides that I'm an 'overrated hero', my threat still stands.**

* * *

_Harry_ snapped his eyes open from his half-doze on the couch and his room was immediately enveloped with a golden light.

On high alert–having learnt long ago to never question his instincts–his hand slowly stretched for the sparking Elder Wand laying beside the ideas for next week's classes. He knew that no one could enter these rooms who meant him harm, but at this moment all that mattered was that he felt, he _knew_ that someone was there.

Yet just as _Harry_'s fingers brushed the wand, his breath was torn from him with a rush of sound, shapes and colours as someone jumped onto his chest, enveloping him with shaking arms, vibrant red hair, and choking sobs.

"Ginny?" _Harry_ gasped, Elder Wand and unfinished lesson plans utterly forgotten. "How–"

"You utter prat!" Ginny Potter didn't release her frantic hold on her husband. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? You told me you'd never do that again! YOU PROMISED ME!"

"Ginny," a shocked _Harry_ tried to calm his wife as he scrunched up a lock of her hair in joy. Of course, his inner pessimist was busy screaming that her being here wasn't possible, but he found it fairly easy to ignore, "it was an accident."

"You never mean it," the red-haired woman finally lifted her head to stare at her husband with tear-stained eyes, "it's always accidental, but you keep leaving me! And now with the kids-"

"Gin, the kids and I are fine. Jamie took the time turner out of my office and it broke before I could get it." _Harry_, shocked but overjoyed at _Ginny_'s surprising appearance, decided in that moment to screw the impossible. That's what he always did anyway.

_Ginny_, on the other hand, looked about ready to curse something. Or someone.

"This is why you should LISTEN to me! I told you it was a bad idea to have that thing in the house!"

"I thought the office's protections would be enough." But _Harry_ couldn't really imagine arguing with his wife right now, so he continued lightly. "This just shows why we should have never let George babysit."

_Ginny_ snorted, sitting up straighter and wiping away the tears from her red eyes. But continued breathing out light hiccoughs. "George? We both know it's the Potter genes."

_Harry_ was about to disagree. But as his wife began to climb off his lap, a far better idea arose. He reached his arm around, pulling her closer to him as he brought her into a kiss.

Breathing in _Ginny_'s fragrance, any last doubts about who she was were banished as lust and want and _need_ to kiss her every freckle swept in. She was finally here with him; seeing her smiling and feeling her so close, he knew he was not alone. He was still in trouble, and he would trip and stumble trying to make sense of things. But for now, looking in her eyes, it didn't matter what would come to be, and it seemed like nothing was ever going to bring them down.

After too short a time–far less than _Harry_ desired–_Ginny_ pulled back slightly, her red eyes and bright smile competing as she kept her forehead pressed against her husband's.

"I love you, I missed you." She mumbled against his cheek. "The kids are really fine? Why do you have red hair and brown eyes? Where are we? What about the Hallows?"

"I love you and missed you too. The kids are doing great, and I'm in disguise."

"And?

"And we're in Hogwarts." _Harry_ smirked into his wife's hair.

"You berk." She lightly swatted him, but seemed reluctant to actually release her hold. "The Hallows?"

"I'm coping." _Harry_ sighed. _Ginny_ gave him an incredulous look. "Really, I am. But never mind that, how are you back here? It's bloody marvellous to see you, but why are you here by yourself?"

She stared at him with wide, disbelieving, and silently raging eyes. "I saw my family disappear. Disappear! In. Front. Of. Me! And I couldn't do anything. I-" _Ginny_ swallowed harshly, "-why would I stay at home when all of you were here?"

_Harry_ looked at her in amazement. "But you could have gotten stuck in time! Or we could have been gone and you would have walked into a trap-"

_Ginny_ glared at her husband. "I know that. Merlin, you think I didn't consider those things? But when Hermione was able to get enough of a pinpoint on you to send someone after your magical signature, I didn't even have to think before volunteering to go."

Harry breathed out in exasperation. "Ginny."

"Harry! Don't you dare start on me–not after all of your ridiculous stunts."

This effectively silenced him, especially with how worn and tired she appeared. "You're right, I can't speak."

"You can't." She huffed, but swayed slightly.

"Look, you should get some rest. I can't even imagine how stressful this must have been for you."

But _Ginny_ was already shaking her head, lifting herself off of the couch to balance unsteadily on her feet. "I want to see the kids. Are they attending Hogwarts? Are they in their dorms? Where's Teddy?"

"Everyone is here, don't worry. James, Al and Lily are students, I'm teaching DADA and Teddy is the assistant professor. He should be up in the dorms with the kids."

"You're teaching? Wait, you did mention that in your letter. That senile old coot probably has some plan going on." _Ginny_ frowned. "What happened to Umbitch?"

_Harry_ shook his head at his wife's familiar conspiracy theory, mentally imagining how her long-awaited confrontation with the Headmaster would go. Then he remembered the second part of the question and his exasperated expression transitioned into him smiling sheepishly, deaging him remarkably. "I, ah...long story. I sort of got angry with her and, well, _Ikickedherout_. Kind of. Sort of."

She paused to decipher her husband's rambling, before giving him a long-suffering look. "You 'got angry', so you changed the timeline? Merlin, Harry."

"I know it was ridiculously stupid." He fingered his glasses with a sigh. "Gin, you don't even know how idiotic that move has turned out to be. And the situation just gets worse, I'll explain later. But see, the toad started insulting Teddy and I, I just saw red."

_Ginny_'s expression immediately softened. "Never mind then, I'd probably have thrown her to the centaurs. But still, teaching?" She thoughtfully considered this while _Harry_ stood up and grabbed his wand. "Not a bad idea. You must be amazing at it, and being a professor would be far less dangerous than being an auror."

"'Far less dangerous'?" He looked at her incredulously as he snuck in another kiss, relieved that she wasn't too angry. "Remember what happened to our defence teachers? Besides, as Head Auror I barely go into the field. It's just paperwork these days."

_Ginny_ returned the kiss, looking happier than before. "It was just a thought. So, Gryffindor or Slytherin dorms first?"

_Harry_ merely chuckled and charmed _Ginny_'s hair black, replaced her freckles with clear skin, and lengthened her face's bone structure with a twinkle of golden light. "We have to be under disguise here, dear. The Order and some of the students and professors know our identities, but to most we'll just be Henry and Jenny Parker."

"Henry and Jenny Parker?" _Ginny_ made a slight face as she followed her husband out of the room. "Doesn't have the same ring. Have the kids' names changed? And where are we going?"

"Their first names are all the same, though Teddy's surname is now London." _Harry_ answered quietly.

"Harry! Where are we going?" _Ginny_ said in annoyance, getting a few odd stares from passing students.

"It's Henry, Jen," _Harry_ gave her a look as she blushed, "and we're heading to Gryffindor Tower to see our little lions."

_Ginny_ paused in mid-step. "Lion_s_. As in plural lions?"

_He_ shrugged with a grin. "I didn't think they'd be safe down in the dungeons."

She practically squealed as she ran ahead, dragging her husband behind her as all tiredness was forgotten.

"Merlin, slow down!"

"Slow down?" _Ginny_ didn't stop and just sent _Harry_ an incredulous look. "I get to see them in red and gold! Do you have a camera? Shame Jamie isn't in green, George would pay good money for that."

She picked up the pace as she cascaded them past corridors and wide-eyed students. As _Harry_ avoided running into a suit of armour, he tried to convince himself that their descent into getting blackmail on the kids was perfectly normal parental behaviour.

Erm, normal. Right. He shook his head, and reasoned that a normal life was probably boring anyway.

"Hurry UP!" _Ginny_ yelled over her shoulder as she raced them both to the seventh floor, small stitches in their sides. "What's the password?"

She turned to the portrait hole just as it opened for a giggling Hermione and a grinning Ron. Both stopped halfway out as they stared at the two people in front of them.

"Wha-"

"'Lo Hermione, Ron." _Ginny_ panted distractedly, racing up to them while still pulling a vaguely amused _Harry_ along behind her. "You're looking young. Are my kids here?"

"Ginny!" Ron gaped in surprise as Hermione squeaked, "Yes?"

_Ginny_ squealed again and ran forward, pushing a shocked Ron and Hermione back into the Common Room, and diving in behind them with _Harry_ at her heel. With a franticness borne from missing her family for months, her eyes swiftly swept over the hordes of Gryffindors as a sudden silence descended the room. Spotting four familiar heads by the fire, she gave a squee before running and jumping over their couch to pull all of them into a bear hug rivalling Molly Weasley's.

"Thank god..." _Ginny_ cried, sobbing onto her bewildered children while keeping them in an unbreakable hold. "Jamie, you are grounded forever! Are you all okay? Lils, how do you like Hogwarts? Al, you've grown a foot! Teddy, you're teaching! Never worry me like that again! Merlin, even your father was never this bad. None of you are ever leaving my sight-body-binds, stunnings, anything, I don't care! Do you hear me?"

"Ah, Jenny?" _Harry_ said quietly behind her. "Honey? We have an audience."

But _Ginny_ couldn't care less. _Harry_ looked from his wife, who was hanging halfway onto her children with her legs dangling over the top of the couch, to Teddy, Al, Jamie and Lily who were turning blue from their mum's strangling hold, to the crowded Common Room which was erupting in frenzied whispers.

_Harry_ glanced around the stunned students. "With that spectacular entrance, I would like to introduce everyone to my wife Jenny Parker." Younger Harry and Ginny joined Ron and Hermione with gaping mouths and stunned expressions.

_Ginny_, with tears rolling down her face, didn't pay attention to any of this. She was instead far too busy exclaiming how cute her kids looked in Gryffindor uniforms, that it was about time for another family portrait, that their father wasn't feeding them right, and if Teddy had met his parents yet ("Even though we love you like our own! And we always will Teddy Bear!" "Don't-call-me-that!" "Oh, just like Tonks!").

_Harry_ coughed as _Ginny_ hugged the entirely red metamorphmagus to her even tighter. "Jenny, shouldn't we let the Headmaster know you've arrived?"

"Shove it." _Ginny_ squeezed her kids.

"Honey," _Harry_ said coaxingly, though smiling at the sight of his reunited family, "you might want to let them breath?"

This succeeded in _Ginny_ releasing her hold–with gasps of relief from the kids–to turn and glare at her husband.

"I wouldn't be saying that, _dear_," she spoke icily, swinging around and sitting on top of the couch, "you are in such hot water already!"

_Harry_ took a cautionary step back. "Gin, I didn't do anything..."

"You let that, that _thing_ into our house!"

"There wasn't another option, and it was locked up-"

"-and Jamie was able to get it!" _Ginny_ shouted, tears staining her cheeks as she jumped up to engulf _Harry_ in another tight squeeze, collapsing against him as her worry and relief finally overwhelmed her.

"You stupid prat." _Ginny_ mumbled into his chest, and the students looked at the two in bewilderment while the Parker kids mimed throwing up.

* * *

"–see what I mean? It would just be easier and less fiery if you stay away from her."

"TWEET TWWEEETT!"

"No no no! That's not what I'm saying. I'm not blaming you, this is just a warning-"

"CHHIIRRPP!"

"..."

"Harry dear, shush–oh fine, _Henry_, but it's not as though the bloody portraits will tell, and you already obliviated the Common Room. All right then you sweet, gorgeous, intelligent phoenix–let's take this from the top: my daughter is crazy. Do you have that?"

"Twee."

"She is also brilliantly manipulative. Got that?"

"..."

"So if she says something is a great idea it is, in fact, a horrible, horrible plan that should have never even been considered, let alone acted on."

"Just ignore everything she says. Start 'tweeting' over it."

"Right! Sweety, that's brilliant."

"TWWEEET!"

"Yes! Exactly! Knew you'd get it. But just to be absolutely sure: you do know that burning down Potter Manor because our kids are bored is a very, very bad idea?"

"Tweet."

"Erm, is that a yes?"

"Twee twee."

"...you know, that didn't really help. Can you make that out, hun?"

"THAT MEANS 'YES', YOU BLUBBERING BUFFOONS!"

A moment of silence.

"Ah, right. Thanks Phineas!"

"...idiotic Gryffindors."

* * *

"–for the last time, no, I won't reconsider!"

Dumbledore paused on staircase, recognising the Sorting Hat's voice from within. _Harry_ had sent him a patronus to meet him in his office, but he couldn't imagine why the Hat sounded so genuinely annoyed.

"But she would make a great Hufflepuff. Very loyal, very caring, very...erm..." _Harry_'s statement dwindled off. The Headmaster amusedly smiled in realisation, before frowning when a woman's voice spoke up.

"Oh Harry–ugh, _Henry_–you aren't going about this the right way. Okay Mr. Hat, our daughter is incredibly hardworking and determined. Her true potential is in Hufflepuff! It's in her very _soul_." The woman gave a dramatic sigh, but it was followed by a few snorts of muffled laughter. Dumbledore's forehead crinkled in thought as a suspicion about her identity surfaced, with it only being confirmed as he opened the door.

_Harry_ was seated beside a redheaded woman–who had her hand clenched in his and kept glancing at him in relieved amazement through tiredly shadowed eyes. Dumbledore, thinking back to the memories he had spotted when the time travellers had first arrived, knew instantly that Ginny Potter had somehow found her way back as well. Yet the Headmaster's curiosity strayed as he noticed not only the highly annoyed Sorting Hat, but an extremely irritated Fawkes who was glaring at the Potters and fluffing its wings proudly.

"Mrs. Potter?" Dumbledore said pleasantly, but hesitated when she only sent him a glare in reply. "It is very good to see you. I'm afraid that my knowledge of time magic is minimal, so it is relieving that the, ah hem, future was able to come up with a solution." The woman's glare didn't lessen, and the old man's statement dwindled off. "At least, I hope so? But–might I ask why Fawkes is in such a fret?"

_Harry_ whispered something to his wife, an exasperated expression on his face. But _Ginny_'s attitude didn't change and her husband merely sighed and turned back to Dumbledore apologetically. "Yes, Ginny was able to be sent back and we're going to work on building a way to get back home–though it will take time." _Harry_ ruffled his hair back nervously. "And we were just chatting with a few old friends."

There was a snort from one of the portraits.

"A chat?" The Sorting Hat peeled out. "You tried to bribe me to sort your daughter into Hufflepuff!"

The Headmaster blinked, still perturbed by the icy glare that Mrs. Potter was sending him. He considered the mysterious points that one sentence had brought up, but he seemed only capable of focusing on: "You tried to bribe a hat?"

_Harry_ shrugged. "We couldn't very well blackmail it."

"Yes, but-" Dumbledore paused, twitching his beard. No, no, his overwhelming need for knowledge did not extend to this. It would be best to rapidly change the conversation's direction. "What is wrong with Fawkes? I thought you both got on well."

_Harry_ frowned at the peeved bird. "It's a misunderstanding, don't worry about it. Oh, but if there are any mysterious arsons around Hogwarts, do know that we tried to prevent them."

Fawkes squawked angrily, huffing up. _Harry_ wagged a finger at it. "I know you think the idea is ridiculous right now, but my kids are very persuasive.

"TWWEET!"

"Let's move on to something else, shall we?" Dumbledore quickly stepped in before his familiar started attacking the time traveller. Unfortunately, he diverted off into an even more dangerous topic. "Mrs. Potter, I am very sorry if my future self has done something to upset you, but could we perhaps start off with a fresh slate?"

"_Future self_?" _Ginny_ spluttered in angry disbelief, but her husband quickly covered her mouth before screams or hexes could begin to fly.

"Sorry about that." _Harry_ sent her another look, which she merely returned with vehemence. "Ginny is, ah, not exactly happy with you. But she'll put those disagreements to the side so we can talk about crucial, exceedingly dangerous points. Right?" He said to her with just a touch of pleading, and the latter's expression softened before she reluctantly nodded. His hand dropped from her mouth.

"Just one little curse?" _Ginny_ huffed, refusing to look at the confused Headmaster or at the scandalised portraits.

_Harry_ shook his head. "It's all in the past, and I really need to tell both of you about what's been happening." He sighed as his two companions worried. "It seems–well, it looks like everything is far more complicated than what we first thought. Obliviations might not cut it. Thankfully, back home the Unspeakables had a theory about how time travellers could return to their own future, even if they had changed the past. Gin says that this is incredibly probable."

"That is reassuring and very interesting." Albus frowned, still perturbed by _Ginny_'s stoic silence and barely held back anger towards him for some unknown reason. "But it does not seem like it will be necessary. Small changes can, after all, be fixed."

"This isn't a small change." _Harry_'s hardened gaze met the Headmaster's curious one. "Voldemort somehow found out important information that he was not aware of in the original timeline."

_Ginny_ jumped, turning swiftly to face her husband with an ashen face. "What does he know? How did you find out?"

"My younger self came to me about a vision he had, even though he had no idea how crucial the scene he witnessed was." At this, _Harry_ closed his eyes against the other two's questioning stares, flashbacks tumbling through his thoughts. "Headmaster, your theory about the horcruxes is right."

The office descended into silence.

"About the horcruxes." Dumbledore said slowly, worry weighing down his voice. "Plural, not singular?"

"About _all_ of them." _Harry_ tried to calm his breathing. "Voldemort found out that his diary was destroyed. Since he doesn't know about the accidental horcrux he created, he's hell-bent on having seven soul pieces."

_Ginny_'s mouth opened in shock and horrific realisation. The Headmaster's eyes widened, the twinkle entirely absent. "Seven?"

Harry sighed and nodded.

"How can anyone find them?" Dumbledore asked gravely. "How-"

"That's the problem." _Harry_ finished explaining. "I know the whereabouts of all but this new horcrux."

_Harry_ had never seen Dumbledore look this shocked, not even when confronted with a family of time travellers. "But then, this has changed the timeline."

_Harry_ again slowly nodded, feeling his wife's hand tightening around his own. "Exactly. The only silver lining is that once time is changed, there's no going back. So if we use our future knowledge we can put Voldemort on the defensive–bring the war to him. Who knows how many deaths we can prevent."

_Ginny_ nodded in quick agreement, her face already set towards the new task. The Headmaster hesitated, but at last shook his head. "From what you have said, the future is a bright one. We shouldn't make a move until we are positive that the timeline has been irretrievably altered."

_Harry_'s expression all-but burst with disagreement. "I don't know how or what has changed, but Voldemort was never supposed to make another horcrux. This isn't a little thing!"

"Be that as it may," Albus sighed, seeming far older than usual, "if we make any harsh changes, we will be lost about its implications for the future."

"The implications for the future?" _Ginny_ at last cried out. "We can make an even better future! We are giving you a golden opportunity to swiftly end the war, and you're throwing it away? You senile old man!"

The portraits began shouting over one another in defence of Dumbledore, while the latter's eyes opened in surprise at the true vehemence Mrs. Potter was showing him. What in Merlin's name had happened?

"Mrs. Potter, this is certainly extremely tempting." The Headmaster said slowly after silencing the portraits. "But with the new, unknown horcrux, you must realise that to change the timeline would be risking the gravest danger."

"Voldemort's already changed it!" _Ginny_ exclaimed, ignoring the flinches of the portraits. "We can handle one extra horcrux, especially with this time's Harry's scar connection."

"That is yet another issue." Dumbledore tiredly petted a still-huffy Fawkes. "What of the younger Mr. Potter? I am not aware of the details, but I assume that destroying that 'connection' was potentially fatal to say the least. If events are changed, who knows what could happen. Shouldn't you consider how this could impact the poor boy?"

_Ginny_ twitched. _Harry_ groaned, preparing for the inevitable storm.

"_You_ are lecturing _me_ for not thinking of his welfare?" She said softly, like a panther ready to strike. "Harry dear, I've just thought of another brilliant way to change the future."

She eyed the suddenly-nervous Headmaster predatorily, but _Harry_ snatched her wand from her hand, ignoring her shout of protest. "Gin, you aren't attacking anyone."

_Ginny_ narrowed her eyes. "Those monsters deserve everything I can throw at them. As does this hypocritical, senile old man who sticks his nose into everyone's business!"

Her husband sighed. "You don't mean that, and you can't just attack the Dursleys. You'll probably give my Uncle a heart attack ten years early."

"Of course I mean all of it! And how can you call that 'man' your Un-" but her angry statement was cut off by the Headmaster.

"The Dursleys?" Dumbledore asked, his forehead crinkled in confusion. "Mrs. Potter, what are you talking about?"

But instead of answering, _Ginny–_forgetting all about magic–growlingly pounced from her chair. Her husband, realising what was happening, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back to him. She swivelled around furiously.

"Let. Go. Of. Me." _Ginny_ snarled, trying to squiggle out of _Harry_'s hold. "If I can't go after 'defenceless' muggles, surely there's nothing against me punching that Old Coot-"

_Harry_ sighed once more, and ignored his ranting wife to look around her to the startled Headmaster. "Sorry about Ginny. Ever since some things came out a few years ago, she's gotten it into her head that you're a manipulative bast-"

"THAT'S BECAUSE HE IS!" _Ginny_ stormed. "Christ, I can't believe we named our son after him!"

"Gin, we've gone over this before..."

"I didn't know the whole story back then!" _Ginny_ growled sharply, alternating her glare between the Headmaster and her husband–the latter still holding her back from attacking the former. "Because _somebody_didn't think to mention that he were naming our poor son after the same person who sent him to an abusive household and wanted to sacrifice him for the 'common good'! Merlin, and I had a problem with was Al's _middle_ name?" She shook her read in disbelief.

The Headmaster had gone porcelain white. "A–abusive?" He whispered in a deathly voice, staring at _Harry_ in horror.

This just made _Ginny_ more enraged. "Oh, so you don't care that you tried to get my husband killed? Already planning it then? But no, I forgot, you already did that in his FIRST YEAR AT HOGWARTS!"

"Gin, seriously," _Harry_ muttered calmingly in her ear, "it's in the past." He turned to address Dumbledore. "Yes, my childhood was-less than pleasant. If we're still here in the summer, I'm pretty sure Ginny will kidnap my younger self if you try and send him to the Dursleys."

_Ginny_ snorted, none of her anger dissipating. "Too right I will." Her expression suddenly lightened with a thought and she stopped struggling in her husband's lap. "Wait, it will likely take at least the year to reproduce the time portal. So we'll be here for Christmas..."

_Harry, _knowing how his wife's mind worked, struggled to hold back a groan. "Gin..."

"We can take younger you on holiday!" She practically squealed. "Give him a proper Christmas. Oh, and I'll take him shopping to get rid of that ridiculous wardrobe of his..."

It was then _Harry_'s turn to glare at Dumbledore, mouthing–'Now see what you've done?'

"...get him a nice tan," _Ginny_ said thoughtfully, "maybe Italy then. We can take Hermione and Ron and-oh!" Her expression shifted to joyful anxiousness as she completely forgot about Dumbledore's unwanted presence. "Sirius! Have you seen him yet? If we're changing this future, we can free him! You can be adopted! This will-"

"Ginny, slow down." _Harry_ said, trying not to make his emotions too transparent. "No, I haven't seen him yet, nor has Teddy seen his parents. As for freeing him..." he hesitated, pure hope battling against rationality "...we don't actually exist here, so it'll be almost impossible to arrange."

"No it won't be!" _Ginny_ protested. "We just need to get Wormtail, or go under disguise or..." she trailed off as she caught the look in her husband's eyes. "Harry, we'll be able to figure this out. I know it'd mean the world to your younger self to have a father."

_Harry_ snorted lightly. "A father? Gin, even if we free Sirius I doubt any adoption would take place. He was a good godfather but-"

"He loved you." _Ginny_ said softly, tugging her husband's hands into her own. "He loves you. Merlin, he even escaped Azkaban to keep you safe."

"That doesn't mean he'd want to be mine-my younger self's-'dad'." _Harry_ said drily, catching himself. "Besides, I doubt I'd be good with having a parent."

"Ugh, you can be so thick sometimes." _Ginny_ said in annoyed affection, before remembering the Headmaster and turning to glare at him. "Which is entirely your fault for leaving him with those awful people! If you have a single remorseful bone in your body, you had better charge those monsters with child abuse and _never_ let Harry near them again. Do you hear me?"

_Harry_ groaned as his wife continued to angrily shout at the still shell-shocked, speechless and ashen Headmaster.

"So stupid!" She ranted. "I almost wish we were sent back farther so we could stop this. If you aren't completely senile, the least you can do is arrange for his therapy!"

_Harry_ also paled. "Erm, Gin? Don't you think that's a bit much?"

"Shut it." She said with a steely glint, before turning once more to Dumbledore. "See? He's still traumatised," she ignored her husband's shout of protest, "and his self-sacrificing streak comes from this! If Harry can be cured of that blasted thing when he's fifteen then, then..." her shout suddenly dwindled away as she roughly swept away a few tears.

"Ginny," _Harry_ said softly, realising why his wife was so concerned, "we'll change how the horcruxes are dealt with. All right? There won't be a need for 'self-sacrificing' this time."

"How do you know?" _Ginny_ said breathlessly. "Did you figure out a way to-"

But her husband was sadly shaking his head. "No, not yet. I was still thinking that we'd have to leave the past alone just a few hours ago, so I haven't thought of anything."

"The revelations about the past aside," the pale Headmaster spoke up hesitantly, ignoring _Ginny_'s glare, "you two cannot simply change the future without thought."

"Don't you get it?" The redheaded woman said in exasperation as her husband narrowed his eyes in annoyance at Dumbledore. "Voldemort is already altering everything, and Harry's already told me about his ridiculous mistake with Umbridge. This situation is already far too big to be contained with obliviations, so our only option is to quickly change the war for the better."

The Headmaster gazed at the resolute Potters, feeling his arguments dwindle about him. "There is a difference between small changes and large ones. The bigger events of the war must be left intact: who knows how that could effect the future?"

_Harry_'s eyes sparked–as did the Elder Wand in his pocket–before he forced himself to calm. "Fine. We'll do it your way until we know more about the situation, and until the Order at least finds out about myself and my family. But we will begin to make small changes on the side."

Dumbledore looked at him with the same suspicion Hermione had given him during their time travel escapade in third year. _Harry_ resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I've already stopped Umbridge from teaching, we aren't exactly being subtle." _Harry_ said. "The changes I'm talking about would be on the same line as teaching the students actual defence, or attempting to talk a stubborn phoenix out of burning our house down in the future. We could just collect one or two of the horcruxes for, erm, 'safe-keeping'. No harm done at all."

The Headmaster opened his mouth to protest but _Ginny_ beat him to the punch. "Collect, not destroy. Voldemort already thinks they're safe, and we can always put them back in their original hiding places if we decide to undo this. Though I still think this is far too light. Also, if I help Harry and Teddy teach DADA, it would be simple for one of us to take time off to research."

Dumbledore sighed, before nodding his reluctant acceptance. "But are you positive you and your family can return to your own future when this is done?"

"Absolutely." _Ginny_ said with a determination that she tried to believe as she tugged her husband up and turned towards the door. "Still, we don't have much of a choice either way."

_Harry_ paused at a sudden thought and, gesturing for _Ginny_ to go on ahead, turned back to Dumbledore just before leaving. "I almost forgot, my younger self needs to learn occlumency."

Albus thought about this for a moment before nodding. "Blocking his connection to Voldemort could only be a good idea. Severus-"

"Pardon me, but having Severus Snape teach my counterpart one-on-one could easily end in homicide. And I know that you're unable to teach it to him, though your concern is overkill." _Harry_ considered the problem as Dumbledore frowned. "How about I teach him?"

"You know occlumency?"

"Isn't that the point?" _Harry_ smiled slightly. "Seriously though, I'll know the best way to teach him, and since I already have his memories it wouldn't be as much of an absolute invasion of privacy as it usually is."

"Very well." Dumbledore said in agreement, his mind drifting to what unpleasant memories his student had been hiding about his childhood, and to how to find out how far the-abuse-stretched. "You and your wife are always welcome back here for a small chat. We have much to discuss, particularly about your scar and unusual wand."

"You know my schedule. Have a good night. Ta Fawkes, Sorting Hat, eavesdropping portraits who I'm very glad are magically sworn to not give away any of the Headmaster's secrets." _Harry_ stepped into the office's open door and gave his waiting wife a half-hug. "And Albus: I'm going to warn my younger self to avoid the Department of Mysteries. I highly recommend that you tell him about the Prophecy."

Dumbledore met _Harry_'s eyes. The latter sighed as _Ginny_ gently pulled him away.

"Albus, he can take it. He's not a child–he never has been."

The door shut.

* * *

**A/N: There you have it my lovely readers: _Harry_ and _Ginny_, reunited at last! But for you peeps who are 'less-than-thrilled' with canon pairings, never fear–it will be a while before their younger counterparts snog.**

**Considering I was convinced that Harry's 'chest monster' was amorentia, there really was no build-up to Harry/Ginny's canon relationship (Unlike R/Hr's arguable 'sexual tension' and mutual crushes since the 4th book). I don't mind the two of them together, but as I've mentioned before I just don't think having them be in love before they're friends is realistic. The biggest jump I'm willing to make right now is Harry _beginning_ to think of Ginny in that way–which anyone would do after finding out who they end up marrying.**

**As for _Ginny_'s anger towards the Headmaster, I kinda thought it'd be funny to parody 'every' cliché fanfic idea. But Dumbles!bashing didn't fit with the story, so I decided to have just one character believe in this conspiracy theory. With that, I instantly thought of Ginny Potter: a fiery, short-tempered woman madly in love with the boy Dumbles 'mercilessly manipulated'. Course, she named her second son after the Headmaster, but maybe she only learned exactly how nonexistent her husband's childhood had been _after_ little Al was born.**

**While _Harry_'s forgiven the Headmaster, _Ginny_ wants to lock Dumbles in Azkaban and throw away the key. Oh, and younger Harry is _Ginny_'s new pet project. You know, like taking in a lost puppy. Neither Harry is happy about this.**


	20. Diadem Doubts and Dawning Days

**General Disclaimer: If I _was_ J.K. Rowling, I would have been on Pottermore ages ago. But I'm finally on, so it's all cool. I'm AvisFelicis7900, a proud Ravenclaw–add me! For all my lovely readers, alerters and reviewers, do you like your username/House/wand?**

* * *

"...bloody hell, I could have sworn it was just there. It _should_ be here. Somebody must have moved it. Probably. Definitely. Yes, that is absolutely the problem." _Harry_ muttered to himself, hoping for an epiphany that didn't come. "Okay, calm down. It was right, left, left again, past the ragged curtain with prancing hinkypuffs...which wasn't there last time. Nor was the violet couch, and is that a hand of glory?"

_Harry_ shook his head, continuing to pace down the crowded pathway. But in coming to a corner that he had definitely never seen before, he gave a cry of annoyance and bolted back the way he had come. "Should have taken the left at the fork." He irritatedly groaned, coming to an abrupt halt at a Roman statue with a tentacle instead of an arm. "Right then, just here."

At first hopeful as he turned the corner, the Room of Requirement quickly became home to a time traveller's yell of frustration. "_A dead end_? Oh come on!" _Harry_ leaned against the statue, breathing heavily. "Is my life really one big cosmic joke?"

He paused for a second, but none of the myriad lost items gave an answering cry.

"It was so bloody easy last time." He muttered angrily, kicking thin air. His responding yelp pierced the room for the empty air was actually The Invisible Book of Invisibility. "Figures, absolutely figures. But really, last time I found the damned thing in no time flat-"

A thought came to _Harry_, and he had to resist his sudden urge to curse something. It was so obvious and mental that he was shocked it hadn't occurred to him before. Then again, he had never exactly bothered to think this puzzle through.

"The horcrux. Christ." He leaned back against the statue before giving a small cry as it and the objects behind it toppled over. He gave the destruction a sheepish glance, but he had more important things on his mind. "Of course, I was sensing the other horcruxes–_that's_ why it was so simple last time. Now if I could just remember where the blasted diadem is hidden-"

_Harry_'s voice trailed off, another obvious thought occurring to him. The Professor looked up into the Room of Requirement's ceiling, suddenly thankful that he was alone. After all, it was one thing to talk to yourself. But this?

"Erm, room," _Harry_ said hesitantly, mustering up as much politeness in his voice as possible, "mind giving me a hand? I know that no orders and no _accios_ can retrieve the diadem–Merlin knows I've tried every combination of those tonight. But could you fetch me a Pensieve? That would be lovely, thanks."

_Harry_ closed his eyes, opened them again, peered around, and saw no change in the piles of junk, possible hidden treasure, and a definite lack of Pensieves.

"What if I ask for it out in the hallway?"

No answer. Not even any chirping crickets.

"Right. Right, course you can't send me a message and save me the hassle. That would make things too easy." _Harry_ sighed, before taking a deep breath and sprinting towards the door. Since this particular Come and Go Room was especially good at losing things, this took him quite a while. But he eventually made it back into the corridor and shut the door behind him.

_Harry_ began pacing once more, determined to think solely about what he wanted and not that it was closing in on four in the morning.

'I need a Pensieve. A working, fully functional Pensieve.' He thought over and over again, before he finally swirled around, took a small breath of anticipation, and nervously opened the door. He paused. Exhaling his breath, he walked calmly into the deserted room and shut the soundproof door behind him:

"GALLOPING GARGOYLES!"

* * *

Harry Potter was used to being awoken by unusual things, ranging from his Aunt Petunia's piercing cry, Ron's deathening snores, a startling nightmare, or a hyperactively apologetic house elf. However, never before had he been woken by a stag Patronus trying–and failing–to lick his face. He wasn't entirely sure how he had felt it at all, but was too tired to really ponder it.

"Prongs?" Harry said blearily, squinting at the silver-white spell. Even without his glasses (though he did clumsily reach out to put them on) the animal clearly had antlers and was, yes, he wasn't wrong: a stag was nibbling his robes. But he hadn't cast it-

Oh. Harry heaved a sigh. _He_ had cast it. Course he had sent a bloody Patronus to him before dawn.

Prongs suddenly looked up and a very familiar whispered voice came from the snout. "Sorry to wake you, but thank Merlin you're the only light sleeper of your dorm mates. Grab your cloak, wand, and meet me in the seventh floor corridor. It's important."

With a regal nod of it's head, the stag faded away. Harry sat, stunned, staring into the reentered darkness. Then with a sense of dread he reached for his wand and cast a quick _tempus_ spell. When the time displayed itself in shining blue numbers he didn't bother holding back his groan and curse.

'I'm going to kill him.' The Gryffindor thought while blearily rubbing his eyes. 'After all his stunts, he has to top it by giving a wake-up call worse than Wood's blasted practices.'

He pulled the curtains back and stood up with a stretch. Quickly dressing, he rummaged in his trunk and straightened up. Casting a jealous look back at his sleeping friends, he threw his father's cloak over himself and flickered out of sight.

"Watch that bastard take off points for me being out after curfew." The disembodied voice muttered angrily. But still, the door opened silently a moment afterwards, and the Fat Lady was shortly thereafter shaken from her sleep.

* * *

Harry didn't bother announcing his presence.

"What is it?" He growled at the older wizard, throwing his cloak off. "Why did you send a Patronus in the _middle of the night?_ No, early morning–sorry, my mistake!

_Harry_ rose a tired eyebrow. "Could you wait to start screaming until _after_ we're in the soundproofed area? I'm sorry I woke you but this is extremely important."

"And it couldn't wait until morning?" Harry said in annoyance.

_Harry_ blinked, then stared at his younger self more closely. "Blimey, Ron and Hermione were right. I really was insufferable my fifth year."

Even though Harry realised his older self seemed even more exhausted than he himself, he still felt a roll of anger in his stomach which over came any self-control or logic he possessed. "INSUFF-"

A blast of golden magic quickly silenced the rant right out of Harry's mouth. Rather than look at his younger self's glare, _Harry_ just began to pace the corridor up and down. And even though Harry was shocked, annoyed, and still half-asleep, he couldn't help but be impressed with the magic. His older self was doing these wandless, soundless spells effortlessly. Not even Voldemort or Dumbledore seemed able to match this feat.

_Harry_ finally stopped walking as a door appeared in the middle of the corridor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet.

"This," _Harry_ opened it and gestured for Harry to enter, "is the Room of Requirement. Dobby told me about it my fifth year: you just pace up and down this corridor three times, holding in your mind the image of whatever you need. The room will then appear with whatever you were thinking of inside. Well, _mostly_ everything. Apparently some magical artefacts are off-limits." For whatever insane reason, _Harry_ glared up at the ceiling with his last sentence.

Harry looked around the beyond crowded room, his awe temporarily throwing water on his previous anger. Wait, he _had_ heard of this place before. Not from Dobby, but hadn't the Headmaster mentioned at the Yule Ball that he had once found a room full of chamberpots, but was unable to find it again?

"This particular room comes into existence when one wishes to hide an object." _Harry_ continued, looking around with a slight frown. "Or, in our case, to find one. Tom Riddle hid the diadem of Ravenclaw here years ago. In the last timeline, it was destroyed by fiendfyre–erm, a giant flameblasting spell–but I'm hoping to destroy it this time without setting the room on fire."

There was a pregnant pause. _Harry_ looked back at his younger self, curiosity ringing the dark shadows of his face. "What, no questions?"

Annoyance instantly returning, Harry pointed to his own mouth with a glare.

"Oh, sorry about that." The older wizard said sheepishly as another bit of golden magic restored the boy-who-lived's voice. "You can rant in here if you'd like."

"Finally." The latter breathed before intensifing his glare. "So, ignoring the fact that you dragged me from bed on one of the few nights I've actually gotten some peaceful sleep, what the bloody hell are we doing here?"

"Language, lang..." _Harry_ started to smilingly berate his younger self, before remembering that it was a futile and hypocritical effort. "Right, never mind. The problem is that I can't remember where the diadem is."

"How did you find it last time? And wait, what about that fiendfyre thing?"

"It was destroyed by the fiendfyre that someone chasing me cast _after_ I had found it."

Harry glanced up at his older self. Some parts of his story didn't click. "You were able to find the diadem when you were running from a group of, what, Death Eaters–in Hogwarts? But you aren't able to find it now when from the looks of it you've been here half the night?"

_Harry_ roughed back his hair, his annoyance at the situation shining through. "It was a rush last time. Plus it was twenty years ago for me! Like anyone could remember that."

The boy-who-lived felt a prickling at his scar as they moved further into the room. "Still doesn't explain how you found it easily the first time. Or why you're trying to destroy it in the first place."

"Why I'm trying to destroy it–Merlin, it's too late to go into that story." _Harry _cast about for a quick explanation. "The objects you saw in your dream? They are all horcruxes, pieces of Voldemort's soul that he separated to become immortal. There's, there's a lot more to it than that, but that's what's critical. As for how I found the diadem so easily before...it was different then. That's why I sent my Patronus for you; I got desperate. Last time I found the horcrux I was still a, I still had a connection with Voldemort."

Harry stopped walking and whirled around. "_Had_? As in past tense?"

There was an even longer pause this time, cementing the fact that _Harry_ was holding something back. "My time's Voldemort is gone, remember?" He said, clearly picking each word carefully. "But your's is still around."

Harry didn't disbelieve this statement but could tell there was more to the story. Still, he let it rest for now. Especially since he was unsettled enough just hearing about the horcuxes. How could someone break their soul into pieces? _Why_ would someone do that, even for immortality? "That doesn't explain how I can help."

"You have a connection with Voldemort and through him his horcruxes–you should be able to sense them." _Harry_ flung his arms wide in desperateness. "So please, _please_ tell me where the damned thing is so we can both get to bed."

Harry was tempted to reprimand _Harry_ for his language, but one look at his tired expression put a hold on that idea. With a sigh he instead peered around the room. He didn't know what his older self was going on about or what he wanted him to do. Did he just expect him to snap his fingers and know where the diadem was? He hadn't the faintest how to go about doing this and-

Harry tumbled to the side and realised with a slow start that his body had been moving down one of the slanted, shallow, and crowded pathways of it's own accord. But now that he concentrated, he could sense it. As mad as it sounded, he could _feel_ it. Right in front of him, nearer, so near...

"...so close, just here..." Harry whispered, and would never know the way his older self shivered nervously at his murmured breaths, "just here, I can feel it. I know it!"

"Harry!" Hands roughly pulled him backward and the boy-who-lived suddenly came back to himself. Looking down, he saw that he had almost stepped on a few caskets filled to the brim with omnious-looking potions, swirling about in the mist.

"Let's stay away from those." _Harry_ said weakly, tugging his younger self back. "Maybe-I know it's impossible to control, but could you try to dial the connection back? You were in a trance for a moment there."

Harry flushed, but could still feel himself inching forward. "I'm sorry, it's...I don't know what I'm doing. But it's just there, just down the next aisle."

_Harry_ peered at him hesitantly. "Great, that's fantastic. I should be able to take it from here if you'd like to go back to-"

"NO!" Harry cried, but caught himself before he bolted off towards the horcrux. "Sorry I, I didn't mean it like that. But can't I get it? It would be simple and, and you still might need my help..."

_Harry_ tried not to let his anxiousness show. "Just stay here. I'll be back in a minute with the diadem."

Harry closed his eyes as his older self went around the corner, pressing a hand against his dully thudding forehead. It was like he was wrestling with himself, for he still felt his feet anxiously trying to go towards the diadem as well, his fingers clenching to grab the metal. He let out a slow breath. It was no use trying to calm down: he still felt off-balanced, unsettled in his own skin. Thoughts and queries whizzed past, all of them merely mounting the confusion: why was the 'connection' strong _now_? Voldemort couldn't be near him and, if it was the horcruxes were causing it, what were they anyway?

And why didn't he feel like himself?

"Got it." The sentence rang out as the figure came back racing around the corner. It wasn't hard to notice the older wizard's false cheeriness. "Thanks for the help, though I'm sorry again for waking you."

Harry narrowed his eyes as his older self finished closing up his satchel with the unseen diadem surely inside. "Can't I at least see it?"

_Harry_ hesitated. "I'm not sure if that's the best idea."

This was, perhaps, the worst thing he could have said. For the words erupted the angry frustration that had for weeks been near the surface of the boy-who-lived. The former pain and unease flared away as the fifteen year old's eyes flashed at his older self. "I get it. Taking a leaf out of Dumbledore's book, are you? I'm too bloody young to know anything?"

"What?" _Harry_ said in confusion. "No, of course not. It's just that-"

"You're all the same!" Harry said so angrily that he didn't notice a flash of golden magic flash from his fingertips. The older wizard stepped back in surprised alarm. "Keeping secrets, hiding everything from me! DON'T I DESERVE TO KNOW THE TRUTH?"

"Stop!" _Harry_ grabbed his younger self's shaking shoulders as the magic faded away. "Calm down. I'll tell you what's going on just, just relax."

This partly brought Harry back to his senses, but indignation still churned within him. "You're just going to report back to Dumbledore."

The wizard groaned, releasing the younger man's shoulders. "Wonderful, Ginny's theory has already rubbed off on you."

"Ginny?" Some of the anger gave way to confusion.

"_My_ Ginny, not your time's." _Harry_ said, vaguely relieved that his counterpart no longer seemed close to homicide. "She's, erm, highly annoyed with the Headmaster."

"Ah." Harry blinked. "Why-"

"She found out a few years ago about the Dursleys and that Dumbledore left me–us–there." _Harry_ rubbed his glasses. "Blame Skeeter."

The young Gryffindor felt a weight drop into his stomach. "An article?"

"Biography." The older wizard answered glumly.

"Damn." Harry breathed out, anger definitely replaced with anticipation. Then he remembered something. "Where is-"

"Asleep. She wanted to help, but was a moment away from collapsing. With her health plus time travelling...well, I still almost had to stun her. Too stubborn for her own good." _Harry_ caught the squeamish expression on Harry's face. "Fine, fine: I won't discuss Ginny, and I'll stop cutting off all your sentences. Happy?"

"Good enough." Harry sighed, anger thoroughly diminished by this point. "This 'reading my mind' thing is almost as bad as your Snape impressions."

"Potter!" _Harry_ said, looking amused and glad for the distraction. "The mind is not a book to be read. Mind-reading, humph."

The older wizard's chuckle died off at his counterpart's blank stare. "What?"

"You know, reading minds." _Harry_ tried to provoke the memory. "Snape's Occlu–oh. Duh." He seemed annoyed with himself. "Sorry, that hasn't happened yet. In fact, it probably won't happen if we change things."

"What?" Harry repeated cluelessly.

"Occlumency." _Harry_ explained. "At least, Occlumency with Snape. I've convinced the Headmaster to let me teach it to you instead this time around."

"Oh, good." Harry said. Then he remembered he had no idea what was going on. "What?"

_Harry_ adjusted his glasses, thinking of how best to explain this. "Occlumency is a rare type of magic which is about forming a barrier, a protection against mental attacks. Or really, against mind reading–don't tell Snape I said that. But in your case, it'd be primarily to block out the connection with Voldemort. No more dreams, visions or pain. Sound good?"

"Seriously?" The boy gaped, disbelief and lack of sleep catching up with him. His older self's lips twitched as though he was dying to say something, but held back at the last moment and merely nodded.

"That's why Dumbledore hasn't been telling you things or meeting your gaze." _Harry_ said gently. "With your mind open to Voldemort it's been too risky. Once you master Occlumency..." his sentence drifted off.

* * *

Nymphadora Tonks had never studied law. Which was rather silly, for one would assume it would come up in her auror career. But the law enforcement officials were more there for the brute force of it all, she supposed, so learning the ins and outs of the laws they were trying to protect wasn't really necessary.

Which was a shame. Because if intensive legal studies _was_ required then she'd know whether or not she'd be sent to Azkaban if she murdered her git of a cousin. Sirius Black was still sentenced to an immediate Dementor's Kiss, and while that was very sad with him being innocent, Tonks wasn't feeling very generous at the moment. She could understand him being depressed with his godson was back at Hogwarts and that Grimmauld Place was far more empty than it had been this summer, but at this point she didn't give a damn.

It was hardly even dawn yet and she would normally still be asleep. Especially on mornings like this which followed her collapsing after guard duty for the Order. Yes, she was grateful Sirius let her crash in a guest room for the night, but she was beginning to think that this was just a ploy to slowly drive her mad.

If Remus didn't do something in the next thirty seconds...

"JUST BLAST THE RUDDY THING OFF THE WALL!" Tonks screamed, finally having enough. Unfortunately, her cries barely made a dent in the chaotic roar. Stalking out into the hallway, Tonks glanced from Sirius' to his mother's furiously shouting expressions, and did the most immediate thing she could think of to stop the din.

"_Stupefy!_"

Sirius dropped like a rock. His mum's portrait gave a smirk, but her expression froze and slipped into fury when she turned to see who she had to thank.

"Filthy half-blood! Your mother was nothing more than a blood traitor, and you?" She shrieked, flecks of painted spit flying from her mouth. "Shunning the gifts that have been given to you, turning your back on the Black name-"

"Oh shut it, you old hag." Tonks said airily, pocketing her wand and stepping over her cousin's still form. She peeked her head into the living room.

"Oi!" She exclaimed to the tired man, sitting on the sofa with a book in hand and facing away from her. "The big bad werewolf can come out now."

Remus Lupin didn't stir. Tonks stepped into the room with a frown, crossing her arms after waving her pink locks out of her eyes. "Thanks for the help Remus. Oh, how nice is it to-are you even listening to me?"

A moment passed. Remus turned a page, still not looking up.

"WOTCHER WOLFIE!" Tonks screamed suddenly, but pouted when this failed to make him jump. "Bugger. You put a muffling charm around yourself, didn't you? Come on, admit it."

Remus, still unaware that he wasn't alone, laughed quietly at a passage in the text.

"I'll take that as a yes." The witch said with fond annoyance. "Merlin, and people think you wolves are violent. Hiding out in here just because your best friend's having a little tift with his mum."

She blew out a puff of air. "I could just take the charm off you, easy peasy. But I do like talking to myself now and again: Christ, I've been around Sirius too much. He's unconscious in the hallway if you're looking for him, by the way. Or we could just stay in here. Occupy ourselves with some snogging."

Tonks snuck another peek at Remus. He hadn't made any indication of hearing her last sentence. She drew in a deep breath. "Double bugger. Thought you might've been pulling a prank and was pretending to be oblivious. Not a very good prank, now that I think about it." She leaned against the wall and stared at the ceiling, her hair transforming into dark red.

"Shame you didn't hear that last part. It would take a worry off my mind." Tonks said softly, fiddling with her wand in her pocket. "Still, if I _didn't_ know how you'd react to me admitting being head over heels for you, and if I thought you'd kiss me back ... well, I'd just jump you and that would be that. But you're going to complicate things because that's what you bloody well do. Because you can't get it into your thick head that everyone who matters loves Wolfie the way he is, fur and all. That _I_ love you just the way you are."

She cast an appraising look his direction, tilting her head to the side. "Change that. Throwing your tweed suit in the rubbish would be an improvement. Wolfie, you know it's bad when an escaped convict has a better wardrobe than you. Don't worry though, I'm convinced that clothes are entirely unnecessary. I wouldn't complain to you leaving less to the imagination."

A burst from the fireplace caused Tonks to jerk her head towards it, using her metamorphmagus ability to hide a small blush.

"Sirius? Remus?" The bearded head in the fire called out. Tonks gave a quiet prayer of thanks that none of her statement had been overheard.

"Wotcher, Headmaster." She knelt down by the fireplace and gave Dumbledore a big grin. "Remus' under a silencing spell and Sirius' unconscious. Can I take a message?"

The auror had the distinct pleasure of seeing the Headmaster confused. She felt quite proud of achieving this momentous accomplishment. "Ah. Thank you, but I should let them know in person. I am sorry for disturbing you all at such an hour, there is just a spot of trouble at Hogwarts that should be brought to your attention."

Tonks furrowed her brow, hair changing to dandelion yellow. "If you want to talk to Sirius and Remus–is Harry in trouble? Is he okay?"

"In a matter of speaking, but he has not been harmed." Dumbledore said evasively. "There has been some unusual magic and it is overdue that it came to the Order's attention."

This vague statement was hardly reassuring. "'Unusual magic'. Headmaster, if another basilisk is rampaging around-"

"Oh no, not at all! Nothing like that."

"-or," Tonks inhaled, "does this have anything to do with the 'mysterious' DADA teacher that's driving Mad-Eye even more paranoid than usual? You sure you don't want to tell him what's going on? You know, before he barges into Hogwarts wand blazing."

"I am sure, Nymphadora." Dumbledore sighed, not noticing her peeved glare. "You three must know first, but Alastor will be informed very soon. I only hope that he will not try to stun and interrogate our new guests."

"_Three_." Tonks said in surprise. "Me too? And wait, the 'new guests'? Headmaster, why exactly did you get rid of Umbridge?"

"Technically that was not me." Dumbledore sighed. "Not exactly. Madam Umbridge unwisely insulted a child of a visitor to Hogwarts, things occurred, and that visitor is now the new Defence Professor. I hear he has been doing an excellent job."

"Uh huh." Tonks tilted her head to the side. "Your riddles don't seem as riddle-y as usual, or at least they aren't in your usual mythic style. Just tell me: is this good or bad news?"

Dumbledore paused, his face growing pale even in the firelight's glow. "Good news for the future, but unsettling revelations about the past which I am trying to put in order. Now, I hate to rush along such a pleasant conversation, but could you please inform Remus, revive Sirius, and floo to my office in ten minutes? I must make a call to the Burrow, but then everything should be set."

* * *

**A/N: Reviews make me happy. Very _very_ happy, extremely so, and makes me even more likely to update! And with exams coming up...**


	21. Hesitance and Hugging

**A/N:** I know their reactions are OOC but I wanted a fluffy family scene and hugs! Lots and lots of hugs. So screw it. If you want a more thorough interrogation just wait until Mad-Eye arrives—CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

Still, this was hard to write. Balancing a lot of charries with humour, angst, romance, and disbelief while adding in Mrs. Weasley/Sirius tension, Remus/Tonks trouble, Potter insanity, Harry's and Teddy's dread, Fawkes/Sorting Hat's annoyance, eavesdropping portraits, and Dumbles failing at keeping order? Too many things! Overload, overload! Doesn't compute!

**General Disclaimer:** *points above* _That's _why I couldn't be Rowling. I'd have driven myself insane mid-way through "Philosopher's Stone".

* * *

_"You three must know first, but Alastor will be informed soon. I only hope he will not try to stun and interrogate our new guests."_

_"Three." Tonks said in surprise. "Me too? Wait, the 'new guests'? Headmaster, why exactly did you get rid of Umbridge?"_

_"Technically that was not me." Dumbledore said. "Not exactly. Madam Umbridge unwisely insulted a child of a visitor to Hogwarts, things occurred, and that visitor is now the new Defence Professor. I hear he has been doing an excellent job."_

_"Uh huh." Tonks tilted her head to the side. "Your riddles don't seem as riddle-y as usual, or at least they aren't in your usual mythic style. Just tell me: is this bad or good news?"_

_Dumbledore paused, his face growing pale even in the firelight's glow. "Good news for the future, but unsettling revelations about the past which I am trying to put in order. Now, I hate to rush along such a pleasant conversation, but could you please inform Remus, revive Sirius, and floo to my office in ten minutes? I must make a call to the Burrow, but then everything should be set."_

* * *

"Is Harry okay?" Sirius asked once again, to be only met with the Headmaster's silence. "Come on, you send out a cryptic Patronus to someone telling them to 'collect Mrs. Parker and Mr London', whoever they are, and come meet us? But you said it had something to do with Harry! Tell me it's not another daredevil adventure. A prank, right? He acted like a normal kid and turned the Great Hall into a giant jello pool? Right? Or hosted a mud-wrestling match for the female students, so some of the teachers are annoyed? And old prudes, but never mind."

Molly Weasley eyed him sharply. "Sirius! When I wonder why those three are worse than Fred and George I don't have to look far."

"What? They can come up with ideas by themselves, and I've heard you've given your twins one or two yourself." He rebutted, looking at the Weasley matriarch in consternation. "I heard something about a Hogwarts toilet?"

She scowled at him, ignoring her husband's whisper to calm down. "You're constantly telling them stories of your own rule-breaking. Honestly, can't you act like an adult for once in your life?"

"Molly, Sirius, this is neither the time nor the place." The Headmaster sighed, looking at them sternly. "There have been no pranks or 'daredevil' adventures, but yes, the latest...situation...does heavily involve your children and godson. You see, there was an accident with a time turner-"

"A TIME TURNER?" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, making the others back away. "Why did they have something dangerous like that? Oh Merlin, did they change something? Are they in trouble with the Ministry? Arthur, we have to get them now!"

"Molly, please calm down." Dumbledore said rapidly before the anxious adults could floo the Ministry. "Your current children never had the time turner. However, we have received a few accidental guests from the future."

Tonks' eyes widened in realisation. "The new DADA Professor."

The Headmaster sighed. "Exactly. He is the Head Auror in the future and his children accidentally broke a very powerful time turner, sending them back to our time. His wife appeared yesterday evening with the good news that she will eventually be able to send them all home, while hopefully an alternative timeline will be created by this adventure to the past."

Absolute silence swamped the room.

"Alternative timelines?" Remus asked finally, blinking wildly. "And-how far in the future? Please tell me you're joking."

"Joking?" Sirius said in flabbergasted disbelief. "This has to be a Death Eater plot. Dumbledore, how could you believe this? Even if they are 'time travellers', why do you trust them? How do you know this man isn't a new Dark Lord?"

"I was incredulous as well but a simple _legilimens_ was enough to assure me that they were indeed telling the truth." The Headmaster rubbed his eyes gravely. "Your godson was less easy to convince. Indeed, young Mr Potter very nearly cursed our guests, convinced that at least one of them was Voldemort in disguise."

Sirius was exceedingly proud. "Good! Wait, how did Harry get involved again?"

"When is he _not_ involved?" The Sorting Hat muttered from the corner. Fawkes trilled in agreement as the adults stared. The Headmaster sighed once again.

"Please ignore them." Dumbledore said, shooting a pointed look at the grumbling object and phoenix. "They are rather annoyed with the time travellers."

"Annoyed?" The Hat huffed. "They had the nerve to try and do my job! If their children really convinced Fawkes to burn down their manor, I doubt they have a Hufflepuff bone amongst them. Humph, Hufflepuff indeed. Slytherin the lot of them."

"CHIRP!" Fawkes angrily cried out. The adults had the odd sensation of seeing the Sorting Hat roll its eyes.

"I'm sure it was an accident on your part." The Hat said drily to the phoenix. "If half of the rumours about Lily Potter are true, she's a Slytherin if I've ever seen one."

"Hear hear!" Cried a 'no-longer-sleeping' Headmistress portrait. "Dratted girl painted a moustache on me. If anyone deserves the dungeons, it's her."

"Lily _Potter_?" Remus swallowed roughly as he exchanged a terrified look with Sirius. "Not, not..."

"Not Lily Potter from the past." Dumbledore said gently, before pausing to consider his next words. "This Lily is from the future and a delightful child, though her parents do have their hands full with her and her brothers."

"You aren't explaining anything." Sirius scowled while Arthur and Remus looked at Dumbledore in shocked realisation. "A 'Lily Potter' shows up and you think it's coincidence? Even if they are time travellers, what does this have to do with us?"

"Everything, Sirius. Everything." Dumbledore breathed out heavily. "The girl's name is no coincidence. I have been hoping that the new arrivals would ask to meet with you, but I decided to take the first step once it was clear they were hesitant."

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" Mrs. Weasley said tightly. "Who are these people?"

The Headmaster paused before letting the story tumble out. "Twenty-four years in the future, as part of his duties Head Auror Harry Potter had a new, powerful time turner. His children James, Albus and Lily accidentally destroyed it, sending the four of them and Teddy Lupin back to the Welcoming Feast earlier this week. Most of the school was obliviated following an altercation with Madam Umbridge, and the older Mr Potter and his godson Mr Lupin took over teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. Mrs. Ginny Potter travelled back in time yesterday evening to try and bring her family back."

Silence.

It was odd how eruptive this frozen scene was. Yet this stillness was soon interrupted as several words were simultaneously screamed.

"HARRY?" Sirius roared with delight and confusion.

"THEY GET MARRIED!" Mrs. Weasley cried in happiness.

Mr. Weasley looked relieved but puzzled. "How is this possible?"

"_Lu-Lupin? What?_" Remus choked out. Tonks patted his back, her own contemplations soaring.

"YES!" Sirius shouted again in realisation. "He survives, he's happy! He's married and-" the dog animagus' eyes widened "-Head Auror? Didn't see that one coming. And—MOONY YOU HAVE A KID!" He swirled around to his friend in mock disappointment. "Why didn't you make me godfather?"

"Because he wasn't crazy." Tonks waved away the question while looking at Remus worriedly. "Wolfie, what's wrong? Isn't this good?"

* * *

Teddy bit his lip. "This is happening way too fast."

_Ginny_ gave him a reassuring look, squeezing her husband's hand as the three of them made their way down the hallway in the early morning. "It's not that fast, you've been here for days. Think of this as a good thing."

"Yeah, no." _Harry_ croaked, trying to rub the sleepiness from his eyes. "The only silver lining is I'm understanding why you see Dumbledore as a manipulative bastard."

"Glad you're finally seeing sense." His wife nodded. "But, this is one of the few good things he's done."

"What-"

"Forcing you both to face your pasts! Goodness knows neither of you were ever going to." _Ginny_ huffed.

"We've only been here a week." Teddy protested. "We would have gotten around to it."

"Hardly." She gently pulled them forward. "But you'll feel better after seeing them and it won't be nearly as terrifying as what you're imagining."

_Harry_ weakly chuckled. "I highly doubt that. Merlin, I'd be surprised if any of them believe us. After my counterpart's reaction..." but his sentence trailed off as his wife stopped them to stare "...what?"

_Ginny_'s lips twitched. "I completely forgot about that." She said, putting up a quick _muffliato_ around them. "Tell me, how did our younger selves react to all of you popping into the Great Hall?"

"Erm, interestingly." _Harry_ looked around at the hallway, deserted in the early morning. "Gin, is this really the best time? We really have to get to Dumbledore's..."

"Oh no, you aren't putting this off." Her eyes gleamed in bemusement. "If you're suddenly anxious to meet Sirius there must be a highly entertaining story here."

"It's not! It's-"

"-yes, it is." Teddy quickly spoke up, relieved for the distraction. "Harry here decided to provoke his younger self_._"

_Ginny_ turned to her husband who was grinning sheepishly. "Tell me you didn't."

"He started it." _Harry_ spoke, not caring how it sounded. "When we appeared, he, Ron and Hermione looked about ready to hex us. Only my younger self didn't back down after I cast a Patronus and said a ridiculous amount of information about my school years."

"Really?" His wife said in surprise. "Honey, when everyone compares you to Mad-Eye we're only kidding. You weren't meant to take it seriously."

"Funny." _Harry_ sent _Ginny_ a bemused glance. "After this lesson in how stubborn my fifteen year old self was I got a little desperate. I sort of, well, I told Ron and Hermione that their suspicions about my relatives were correct."

_Ginny_ groaned. "Of course you said that. So let me guess: Privet Drive is now a crater?"

Teddy blinked. "A...crater? Yeah, I still don't know what you're talking about."

"It doesn't matter Ted." _Harry_ ignored his wife's look at his words. "But no, it's not a crater: I stopped them before they got themselves thrown into Azkaban. My younger self believed me after that, but he's still highly pissed off about the entire thing."

_Ginny_ opened her mouth and closed it a few times, before warily shaking her head. "I should have known. The only one stupid and brave enough to annoy Harry Potter is Harry Potter. At least tell me your younger self isn't still holding a grudge."

Teddy grinned, though he made a mental note to look up what had happened with his godfather's relatives. "Not about _that_, per se."

"Wait." _Ginny_ looked at her husband in annoyance. "You've done something else to annoy him?"

"Shouldn't we really be meeting our families?" Harry said in a slight panic. _Ginny _just gave him a look. He sighed and continued. "Fine, fine. I didn't want any mini-Death Eaters to get suspicious, so Teddy and I are pretending to side with The Daily Prophet."

She looked confused as she thought back. "This is 1995 so...oh Merlin. Harry, you haven't."

"He did." Teddy supplied cheerfully, hoping against hope that _Ginny_ would get completely sidetracked on this.

"Only you." _Ginny_ sighed in a long-suffering tone. "Only you would aggravate your younger self by, what, disbelieving that Voldemort's back? Calling him insane?"

"And going on about the celebrity thing a bit." Teddy said lightly, ignoring his godfather's look to 'shut-it-or-I'm-grounding-you-for-a-month-even-tho ugh-you're-of-age'. "Quoting Snape, Lockhart and the like, right?"

"Of course." _Ginny_ groaned, swatting her husband. "To think that I missed you and your sense of humour. So your younger self hates you?"

"'Hate' is a pretty strong word..."

"Harry."

He hesitated. "Severely, royally pissed off? Yes, definitely. Especially after I sort of woke him in the middle of the night to find the diadem."

His wife blinked. "You woke him-oh." She had to hold back an eye roll. "You couldn't remember where it was, could you."

"It's not like I'm a horcrux detector." _Harry_ said mock-grumpily. "Which was why I got one."

Teddy again looked at his godparents oddly, but he had no time to question them before _Ginny_ gave way to sudden giggles. "Oh god, I can't believe I find this funny. But, but–oh! I'll be teaching Defence too! This will be so much fun."

"See?" _Harry_ asked encouragingly. "It's not crazy, it's _funny_. And at least partly logical–but never tell Hermione I said that."

_Ginny_ at last managed to calm herself, though her laughter triggered her memory to come back to the present situation. Her eyes widened. "Oh no! Merlin, you two got my distracted!" She quickly dismantled the charm and pulled the protesting pair with her towards the Headmaster's office. "No protesting from either of you."

"This just isn't a good idea-"

"Shove it, _Henry_." _Ginny_ growled as she swept down the corridor, keeping a tight hold on her two boys. "I know both of you. If we put this off you're just going to sink into moping messes! No, I'm not going to have any of it. I've put up with enough to get here and I will not stand for this!" She ended in a high, fairly frightening pitch. A pitch which, alongside the words and _Ginny_'s deathly expressions, clearly signalled to Teddy and _Harry_ that they should shut it, keep walking, and do what they're told.

"I still don't like it." _Harry_ ventured as they neared the entrance. His wife's stormy look instantly softened as she looked at her family's anxious expressions. "What are we supposed to say to them? I mean, Jenny, your parents are easy enough so long as they don't hex us. But the others..."

Teddy hesitated as they approached the gargoyles. "Can we not tell them?" He said quietly, looking at the ground. "That they're-what's going to happen." The young man exhaled. "I don't, I don't think I can do it."

"We'll be right here beside you." _Harry_ spoke with forced calm as _Ginny_ squeezed both of their hands. But Teddy shook his head.

"It's not necessary for anything, right? Why can't I pretend I last saw them a few days ago? They don't have to know."

A worried look crossed _Ginny_'s face. "Teddy..."

"Maybe that's the best idea." _Harry_ said in a torn voice. "If we're changing everything, this would just depress them. I'll be able to act normally, but I don't think I could face this either."

This didn't do much to appease his wife and her expression merely grew more worried. "This isn't healthy for either of you, don't you understand? You're blatantly avoiding the issue and-"

"Cockroach clusters." Teddy said hurriedly, interrupting the argument before his godfather's mind could be swayed. With the password and gargoyles moved away from the hidden passage, revealing the moving spiral staircase. The metamorphmagus gave _Ginny_ a cheeky grin which did nothing to hide his anxiousness and slight shaking. "See? I'm not avoiding anything."

_Ginny_ opened her mouth to retort but softly shut it as they relinquished their held hands to step onto the stair-steps, which began to spin upward. She still thought that avoiding it was a terrible idea, but, but...she sighed. It was not as though she could do anything but support her family, and she could see exactly where they were coming from.

They stepped onto the landing as a last thought flickered across _Ginny_'s mind, and she distantly wondered if Fred would think her insane if she burst into tears at their own reunion.

_Harry_'s hand faltered an inch from the office door. _Ginny_ silently took his other hand in her own, sending him a soft smile. He exhaled and knocked.

The voices from within the office were silenced, before the door was pulled open with a rigid slam. _Harry_ only got a glimpse of his godfather's excited face before he was unabashedly knocked off his feet into a bear-hug. It took quick manoeuvring on Teddy's and _Ginny_'s part to avoid also being bulldozed to the ground. Though with Molly and Arthur Weasley close behind Sirius, _Ginny_ quickly squeaked as she was knocked over by her parents' greeting.

"Good, good," the Headmaster smiled, "you've all made it."

"YOU'RE HERE!" Molly cried as she and Arthur tightly held onto their shocked but delighted older daughter. "_Ginevra Molly_, what in Merlin's name possessed you to do such a silly thing! Oh but dearie, you're so thin. And Harry too, and you're married! Oh, you must be Teddy! Well come here, come here–you all look half-starved. I'll make you a nice pot roast after this, and I have grandchildren! Grandchildren Arthur, can you imagine? How many!"

"YOU'RE SO OLD!" Sirius exclaimed, not paying any attention to Dumbledore or the Weasleys, nor making any attempt to cease his embrace of his gapping godson. "Your kids are pranksters! And, Merlin, you're old! I _knew_ that Prophecy was a load of rubbish. I-" he suddenly hesitated, slightly relinquishing his strangling hold, "-you know about the Prophecy, right?"

"Yep, he does." _Ginny_ replied, while just managing to separate herself and Teddy from her protesting mum and dad back to their feet. "And mum, I'm fine and not hungry, but it's so good to see you both. It's wonderful to see you as well Sirius, but could you stop strangling my husband?"

For a moment it seemed like Sirius was about to comply, but he instead pulled the others over to join the group hug. "HAH! Always knew you'd get married. Hey–OI MOONY! You owe me 10 galleons!"

"You bet on us!" The couple exclaimed in unison, trying to struggle out of Sirius' hold as their shock gave way to disbelief.

"_You bet on them_?" Molly turned to Sirius and was about to start shrieking when she realised it would be far more prudent to lovingly strangle her future family who had stupidly, ridiculously messed with time. _Harry_ looked over her shoulder into the room and, avoiding meeting Sirius', Remus', or Tonks' gazes, settled on glaring at an amused Dumbledore.

"Course I did, why wouldn't I?" Sirius said, looking amused as his godson's air was choked off as Molly pulled him and _Ginny_ into an embrace. "How do you think us Order members spent our downtime? Well, most of them. Speaking of which, _please_ tell me you created your own private army at some point–I got great odds on that." He finally noticed the unfamiliar, shocked young man he was holding and let out a cheerful barking shout. "MOONLET! Drat, that nickname doesn't work."

"I use 'Teddy Bear'." _Harry_ choked out as Sirius enthusiastically tightened the hug with quite a bit of help from Mrs. Weasley. "Just the right amount of embarrassment."

"Teddy Bear, perfect." Sirius grinned as he dragged the three into the office. "Even has a nice allusion to Moony with it. Speaking of: Oi, Moony! Come meet your son!"

Tonks looked at them curiously as they entered the office. "It's great to see you guys, and to meet you Teddy! I love the sapphire hair, glad to see you don't have your dad's style. And, wow, Harry you've certainly grown."

"No hitting on my godson." Sirius wagged his finger at his cousin before turning to the time travellers.

It would have been difficult to determine whether Remus or Teddy was paler at this point in time. The former was solely being kept from fainting by Tonks' hold, while the only reason the latter wasn't outright fleeing the room was because of _Ginny_'s death grip on his arm. Both women gave the men 'not-so-subtle' pushes forward. Teddy gave a last glance back to his godfather's terrible attempt at hiding his anxiousness, and turned to meet his parents.

"Wotcher." Teddy was proud that he only slightly stumbled on the word, and that he was somehow able to keep his balance since someone had definitely cast a jelly-legs charm on him when he hadn't noticed. "Hey dad, mum."

Remus' jaw remained dropped, but expressions of confusion lit most of the rest of the group.

"Erm, mum?" Sirius asked, rubbing his head. _Harry_ and _Ginny_ simultaneously groaned while Teddy's hair and face turned crimson red. "Whoa, you're a metamorphmagus! That's great, it..."

The dog animagus' sentence trailed off as a look of delighted realisation crossed his face. "Moony, you and Tonks! So if you marry my cousin, we're cousins-in-law. And Teddy's my, erm, something!" He let out a bark of laughter. "Hah, this future is insane."

"You're telling me." Teddy muttered, staring at his parents nervously. He ruffled his hair and determinedly tried to place a smile back on. "Sorry, I know this must be a shock. If you two don't feel comfortable with this I could...well I could, I guess-"

"Is it true?" Tonks looked up at Teddy with searching eyes, cutting off whatever he was about to say. "Am I, am I going to be your, your mum?"

Teddy opened his mouth but all words failed him. Staring at his parents and at their clutched hands, every thought was swept from his mind. It was too much for him to even nod. But, none of that was needed, for as Tonks stared into the younger man's gaze she apparently found whatever she had been searching for.

A blossoming pixie-like smile on Tonks' lips was Teddy's only warning before she unceremoniously threw herself at him, embracing him with a warm hug.

"I HAVE A KID! EEE!" She pulled back slightly to look up at Teddy, and he felt his stomach flip as he recognised her smile as his own. "Did I spoil you rotten? How old are you? Do you have any siblings? Do you like pink hair? How about Quidditch! And your House! You have to be a Hufflepuff, right? Tell me all!"

Tonks looked away from her frozen, jaw-agape child to Remus, who seemed if anything even more petrified. "Remus, come meet our kid! Ohh, that's a really good question. Do you know when I knock some sense into Wolfie here?"

This last comment shook _Harry_ out of his trance and he let out a chuckle, even though he still tightly clutched _Ginny_'s hand. "It took awhile for 'Wolfie' to be convinced. But don't worry Remus, Teddy isn't a werewolf."

"Yeah." Teddy cleared his throat, his thoughts still unable to focus on anything except for the miraculous fact that _his mum was hugging him_. "Yeah, I just get cranky during full moons."

"That's, that's not it." Remus finally spoke in a withered voice. "Please don't get me wrong. Harry, Ginny, it's amazing to see you. And Teddy I..." his words faltered as he stared at his son "...I don't know what to say. To you or to Tonks. I, oh Merlin. I've made you both pariahs!"

Tonks stiffened and pulled away from a shocked Teddy to stare at Remus angrily. "How many times do we have to get over it? Are you really this bloody thick?"

"Yep." Sirius responded as he smirked at his best friend. "He's always been mental, part of his charm. Do what James and I used to do: refuse to talk about anything else for days and days and days, until he cracks. Or goes completely loony, either/or really."

Remus spared Sirius a scowl before turning back to his future wife and child. "You don't understand. This sort of thing just doesn't happen to me! Family and, and love are for humans. Not for mon-"

"_Don't_ finish that word." Tonks growled. "I could go on for hours about how you're a self-sacrificing, noble git," _Ginny_ snorted at this description, "but there's a more efficient way to prove that you're wrong. Take in the evidence in front of you!" Tonks pointed at a shell-shocked Teddy. "Family? Love? You're going to have it all; just let me in."

Remus hesitated but shook his head. "I, I can't-"

"Argh, that is IT!" Tonks cried in frustration before grabbing onto her future family's surprised arms. "I am sick and tired of this, so we're going to fix this right now." She dragged the two of them towards the door. "Dumbledore, Weasleys, Black, Potters: wonderful to see you, we'll be back later. We need some family bonding time and I need a snog from a certain wolf."

"MUM!" Teddy's scandalised voice cried out before the office door slammed behind them. Silence descended, only punctured by the portraits' mumblings.

_Harry_ let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "That went better than expected."

"Oh really?" _Ginny_ looked at her husband askance, noticing that he was still shifting restlessly. "What were you expecting?"

He scratched his head and looked apologetically at the others in the room. "I'd kind of assumed someone would curse us. Probably Tonks or Sirius–no offence meant–or maybe Molly."

"Yeah, I was expecting mum to." _Ginny_ nodded in agreeing, momentarily forgetting that the woman in question was right next to her.

"Why I never!" Molly huffed. "Like I'd ever hex my family."

"I meant that you might not believe us." _Ginny_ hurriedly explained.

Arthur looked shocked at the very idea. "Ginny, I don't care what age you are: I'll also recognise your shifting and biting your lip when you're nervous, and no one'd be able to fake the all-encompassing love I see in your eyes right now."

"Exactly." Sirius agreed. "Sure, Dumbledore's story about time-travel was barmy but I've heard of stranger things. Heck, I did a few of them back in Hogwarts as pranks. So when a James-look-alike gave me a 'deer-caught-in-the-headlights' expression that was all Harry, it was obvious who you were. Please, like someone could fake your ridiculous balance of anxiousness and steel nerves. Though we _are_ going to talk later about these new scars of yours and why you looked terrified to see me."

"I also believe that any lingering doubts about you being Death Eaters was extinguished when it became clear how much you are both in love." The Headmaster spoke up, his smile even slightly disarming _Ginny_'s reflexive scowl his way, though _Harry_ still stared at Sirius in amazed anticipation. "Though, I must warn you that I am not sure how well Alastor will take this when I inform him."

Molly frowned. "If he touches one hair on their heads-" she looked at her daughter and her husband more closely "-speaking of which, dears, you should both eat more. You're only skin and bones! And we shouldn't get sidetracked: where are these grandchildren of mine?" A gleam sparked in her eyes.

"Probably blowing up Gryffindor Tower." _Ginny_ said, sending a look her husband's way.

"Whoo!" Sirius cheered. "I knew you'd have mini-Marauders."

_Ginny_ snorted as _Harry_ looked sheepish. "Stupid pact."

"That wasn't my fault," He quickly replied, knowing exactly what was coming. "There wasn't any pact."

"Of course there was!" His wife scowled even while looking slightly amused. "Only you and George would make a name pact on your firstborns."

"Excuse me?" Arthur stepped in, not entirely sure he wanted to know. "What did Harry and George do?"

"Not much." _Ginny_ grinned as her husband groaned in anticipation of what this latest reveal would bring. "They just decided to hedge the bets on having pranksters by naming their firstborns James Sirius and Fred George."

You could have heard a knut drop.

"You did _what_?" Molly asked her sheepish-looking son-in-law weakly.

"There wasn't a pact!" _Harry_ protested half-heartedly. "Besides, Jamie isn't even the worst and-and-Sirius? You okay?" He noticed his godfather's god-smacked expression with concern.

"James Sirius." Sirius whispered before looking up at _Harry_. "You, you named your son after me?"

_Harry_ smiled, relieved that something wasn't wrong. "Of course. Sirius, you mean the world to-OOF." His next words were knocked out of his mouth as his godfather pounced him and _Ginny_ once again.

"Sirius!" _Ginny_ pulled away even while her eyes shone with relief at the true smile on her husband's lips. "I never thought you were such a hugger. Did you have one of the Old Coot's dosed lemon drops?"

Dumbledore sighed as everyone else stared. "Mrs. Potter, I assure you that they are not 'dosed' with anything. They are merely delightful candies."

Sirius pulled back with a puzzled look. "'Old coot'?"

"Dumbledore." _Harry_ replied to the utterly familiar topic of discussion. "Ginny thinks he's too manipulative, and I'm finally starting to agree."

_Ginny_ poked her husband frustratedly. "But not for the right reasons!" She turned to the rest of the room. "Sorry, Harry and Teddy have been dragging their heels about meeting all of you."

"But then someone forced the meeting." _Harry_ narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore, ignoring the portraits' murmurs of 'So disrespectful!' and 'Why, in my day...'.

"If I had been here I'd have made you two get over this ages ago!" His wife said in annoyance. _Harry_ looked at her oddly.

"We've only been here for a week."

Neither of the Potters noticed the looks they were receiving. "But I know you. You repress everything until it explodes with a fiery fury!"

_Harry_ arched his eyebrow while Arthur and Sirius snorted. "Uh huh. I'm 'fiery'? _I'm_ the one who encouraged the kids to keep fireworks out in the broom-shed?"

_Ginny_ folded her arms with a huff. "You are not putting that one on me. All of the insanity comes from your side of the family, and your friendship with phoenixes."

"One phoenix," _Harry_ protested while Fawkes stuck his tongue out at him, "just one! Besides, you've brought home a Welsh Green Dragon."

"I was babysitting her for Charlie." _Ginny_ protested.

"You can't babysit a dragon."

"Oh, she was hardly even out of her egg-"

Bursts of laughter interrupted their argument and, looking around, the Potters finally remembered where they were. As the time travelling pair began to grow red, they also noticed that while Dumbledore seemed only slightly surprised, it looked as though Sirius had gone into shock from gleeful pride, a wide, crazy smile plastered onto his face.

"_A dragon_?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a deathly whisper while sending her chuckling husband a stern look. "As if the time magic wasn't enough! Fireworks, phoenixes, _dragons_? What next: you befriended a giant?" _Harry_ covered up his snort.

"I'm sure it's fine. No harm done, right?" Sirius spoke cheerily. "And you two, arguing like an old married couple; who'd have believed it. But now I really want to meet these kids of yours."

Arthur shook his head with a slight smile as his wife's frankly terrifying glare morphed into anxious delight. "Dumbledore mentioned that you have three?"

"Yep, three." _Ginny_ replied, glancing at her husband. "James is fourteen, Al's twelve, and Lily's eleven."

Sirius paused, obviously thinking about the meaning behind the names as a shadow passed his expression. "I'm sure they must be very proud, Merlin knows I am. Does 'Al' stand for something?"

"Albus." Harry said, watching his wife warily. "Long story behind that one. If I elaborate Gin might hex me."

"Or someone else in this room." She replied with a frown, her gaze flickering to Dumbledore. "But enough about us, how are all of you?"

"Oh no, you are not getting out of this so easily." Sirius grinned, the bittersweet tone leaving his voice. "You have twenty years' worth of news to tell us!"

"I am afraid that much of the future knowledge will have to remain a secret." The Headmaster spoke up gravely, eyeing the group carefully.

"And I hardly think it matters." _Ginny_ stated simply. "We've already explained all of this to you."

"Explain all of what?" Arthur asked his daughter, though he still seemed fairly bewildered by this fact.

"We have a way to get back to our own time, even if we create an 'alternative future' from being here." _Harry_ explained, careful to avoid Sirius' puzzled stare. "Since that's the case, we could use our future information to hopefully bring this war to an end. As well as change a few other things as well." His gaze finally shifted to his godfather who, noticing this, grew even more excited. His 'still-Azkaban-ravaged' face splitting into a grin, making him look ten years younger.

"What can I do to help?" He asked gleefully.

"It is not that simple, I am afraid." Dumbledore said sternly. "Our guests have already made enough changes to the timeline—"

"But that's the point." _Ginny_ pointed out sharply. "We're trying to make a better future."

"Yes, I understand that," the Headmaster continued, "but none of us know if it will in fact be better. From what I understand the future is a good one. Is it truly worth shifting reality and the timeline to attempt to change it?"

_Harry_'s gaze flickered around the past people in the room as he gently took his wife's hand in his own. "Yes. Yes, it's worth it."

"It won't change anything for us." _Ginny_ said with a softer tone of voice. "But there were many deaths in the Second War, countless hardships. Voldemort was able to gain far too much power and we have the chance to stop it! What other choice do we have?"

"That's good enough for me." Sirius spoke lightly, trying to pierce the forebodingness which had settled around the room. "So Potters: what do we do next?"

"Have patience, I believe." Dumbledore said, looking his full age as he quietly surveyed the annoyed people in the office. "Changing the timeline is no small decision, and we should only have this discussion once everyone who should be present is present."

* * *

Teddy was suitably shocked. Not necessarily at the situation: he'd been gearing himself up for this 'confrontation' ever since arriving in 1995. Nor was it his young father's very understandable shock as they were unceremoniously herded across the hall. Imagine if someone claiming to be his future kid showed up out of nowhere? He'd definitely be startled speechless.

Instead, it was his young mum's attitude that stunned him. She not only seemed to accept all of this, but was _enthusiastic_. Indeed, as they entered the small side room she turned to him, her smile was beam-like, and she stared at him hungrily as though she could never see enough of him.

The door shut behind them as a spell of silence hung around the group. But the next thing Teddy knew he was being hugged within an inch of his life.

"_YOU'RE SO ADORABLE!_" Tonks squealed into his ear as the werewolf and half-werewolf gave identical gapes. Teddy, oddly, got a sudden flash of _Ginny_ and _Harry_, and found it insanely impossible how alike his actual parents and all-but-adopted parents were. "Remus, isn't he adorable? You are! You so are, and _squishy!_ Probably not the right thing to say, but so what! I'm new to this whole thing. But YOU!"

"Err…" Teddy desperately looked at Remus for help, but his young dad was clearly as lost as he.

"A perfect mix of us! _Teddy!_ Short for Theodore too?" Tonks' hold somehow grew tighter, her enthusiastic voice raised in pitch.

"Err, yeah…"

"We named you after dad!" She exclaimed happily, hair shifting to a sunflower yellow. "I'm sure he was pleased as punch. My baby's an auror! _You take after me!_ If you're clumsy I am so, so sorry. But I'm a mum! A brilliant one, since my baby's so awesome! Who else can say their son's time traveled and has sentient hair? Remus, we're amazing parents! I'm the cool one, right? Course I am, what am I saying! TEDDY, YOU'RE SO CUTE!"

"Tonks, maybe you should let him breath?" Remus said a bit helplessly, his nervousness shining through.

"MY BABY! Wait, how old are you? When do I get pregnant? How do I finally convince Remus he's being an idiot? How long was labour? Was it as painful as they say? Mum told right _awful_ stories about me torturing her, though I'm sure you were much better! Do you have siblings? Did _they_ torture my uterus? Did I scar you lot for life with stories about labour torturing? How did—"

"Err!" Teddy said with more emphasis, sending a desperate look at Remus to rescue him. Especially since his young mum's embrace really was now cutting off his air.

"Tonks," Remus came forward reluctantly, putting a hand on her shoulder, "maybe you shouldn't—"

"Don't 'maybe you shouldn't' me!" Tonks spun around, her enthusiasm disappearing in a scowl. Teddy gasped in relief as she released him. "Do you even know how long I've been waiting for you to come to your senses? But here, _here_ you won't even hug your son!"

"Err…" Remus went wide-eyed, backing away from the now furious woman. "Teddy, I really am happy to meet you, it's just a bit shocking…"

"_Shocking?_" The annoyed witch growled. "That's the first blasted thing you say?"

"Mum!" Teddy yelped a word which instantly brought a smile to Tonks' lips as her anger somewhat faded. "Don't blame dad, he's just surprised. Which, honestly," he hesitated, considering whether to test his luck as his young mum turned to him, "I'm pretty shocked you're taking this so well."

Tonks sent him an unimpressed look. "I'm a metamorphmagus auror, outcast from a dark pureblood family, in love with an oblivious werewolf, works for a 'top secret' order, and have an innocent insane mass murderer as a cousin. Teddy, I hate to burst your bubble, but a bit of time travel isn't much. Especially when this is such a nice surprise!"

"Oh." Teddy wasn't exactly sure how to feel. "Well, ah, good then. Nice talk. Let's go back to the others now that everything's cleared up."

"We aren't done here." Tonks sent him an understanding look before returning to staring furiously at the still-silent werewolf. "You have anything to say for yourself? To your son? _To me?_ How about on how you bloody well KNOCK ME UP! After months of pushing me away apparently one day you'll decide, 'Oh, never mind then! Let's forget all about the angst and torture Tonks' uterus. That'll be a right laugh!'"

"…I'm sure it didn't happen that way?" It was Remus' turn to send an anxious look to Teddy, but the younger man was struggling to hold back a slightly hysteric laugh as his future mum advanced on his future dad. "You, you're happy to meet Teddy. Right? So you can't be that mad about how he, um, will come into existence?"

"Of course I'm not angry at my baby!" Tonks huffed as though it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. With that, she pointed a furious finger at the werewolf. "But you? _You idiot!_ You stubborn, oblivious, hopelessly charming and stupid man! Merlin, you are so INFURIATING! At least tell me you understand now?"

Remus gaped. "…what?"

"You stupid idiot." Tonks sighed before—with a determined glint in her eyes—leapt up, wrapping her arms and legs around him as Remus took a step backward to support the sudden weight. In the next instant, she was unabashedly tasting the almost certainly lingering chocolate on his lips.

"MUM! DAD!" Teddy cried out in horror, skittering away in abject shock. Seeing they weren't coming out of it anytime soon, he backed into the farthest most corner. "I didn't actually, you were serious? Yeah, okay, I know there's 'sexual tension' or—ack, I can't believe I said that—but is this really the time? Hello? Your future, traumatised son is still here! Merlin, are you two even breathing? This is worse than mum and dad! Err, I mean _Harry_ and _Ginny_! What are you—what are you doing _now_!? MUM! I'M NOT BORN FOR TWO YEARS! CHRIST, MY EYES! My poor, poor eyes…you know, screw this. _Stupefy!_"

With that, Remus and Tonks were able to have time to work out their 'differences'.

* * *

**A/N:** Guess who saw The Avengers opening night! It is totally awesome beyond all belief. Seriously: from Agent Phil, Iron Man's quips, the Hulk's insane incredibleness (Oh Merlin, Loki!), to Nick Fury with a bazooka, you'll fall in love.

I melted at Tony Stark and Bruce Banner being bffs. They're so adorable! Can I hug them? Pretty please with a cherry on top? And, sweet Morgana, the end! The Christ-figure! The missed phone call *starts crying*. The 'catching-and-saving-him-in-mid-air-and-the-expres sion-on-his-face-after-the-roar'! Oh Merlin, I have to do an Avengers fanfic. I'm thinking a Stark/Banner ship? Now I just have to think of a cute abbreviated name and I'll be good to go. Let's see: Bruty? Iron Hulk? Iron Gamma? Damn. Anyone know if one already exists?

**Edit:** I kind of love that this post was pre-Science Lovers and Science Bros. I beat Tumblr! …which was a rather hipsterish thing to write.


	22. Padawans and Polyjuice

**A/N:** So, I haven't updated in a month. I blame exams, another story … and going to Dublin, the London HP Studio Tour, and Italy. Can I just say how teeny tiny Daniel Radcliffe must be? They had Sirius' motorcycle at the tour and, holy Merlin, how did he fit into a seat that small?! I'm an average sized girl and I could barely get out of it! Then again, maybe praying at Tom Riddle's grave jinxed me. Oh, and Hagrid's a cyborg. Just saying.

But I'm now back in the UK, I'll be home in the US next week, I've passed all my classes and I've blessed my Deathly Hallows necklace with holy water in St Peter's Basilica. So now I can properly refocus on fanfiction. The start to this refocusing? I've been spending many a bored hour on planes and trains, so my wee notebook horcrux and quill have gotten quite the workout. That, plus the fact that my lovely boyfriend went along with me squeeing about ships the whole vacation (Sirius/Remus! Banner/Stark! Sososocute!), so my fangirl side has been rejuvinised. Plus, I've gotten my 200th review! *tackles reviewers with a ginormous bear hug*

Also, thank you Angelic Sentinel for the correction, and I reallyreallyreally hope I haven't accidentally taken this idea for Occlumency lessons from somewhere. I think it's original and it's always been what I pictured. Also, Snape wasn't exactly a git for not explaining things properly—it's just that because everyone's mental defences are unique, the only one who could _properly_ explain it would be your older self.

**General Disclaimer:** I'm guessing that Rowling wouldn't listen to the AVPM soundtrack in Rome's Colosseum. Nor would she scream out HP spells in Pompeii's amphitheatre, or become fanatically excited in realising that Florence's Italian name is Firenze. Nah, definitely not.

* * *

"So."

"So." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"This is awkward." _Harry_ gave a sheepish grin, leaning against the main desk as he looked at the single student in the classroom. "I'd ask how you're feeling, but I could probably guess."

"Hmm."

"…are you going to ask about the future?" _Harry_ said almost hopefully. Blast Dumbledore and his 'have patience'. Maybe _Ginny_ had a point about him. Either way, this was a good idea. Yes. Yeah. Of course it was. Perhaps it would even only bit a little scarring…oh, who was he kidding.

"Don't want to know." Harry said, rapidly losing whatever patience he'd had. "Look, if you want to make small talk we both 'know' I'd prefer to ignore you and play Quidditch. So if you could—"

"I do actually want to talk about something." _Harry_ cut in with a sigh, scrambling to figure out how to proceed. "Be thankful: in my timeline it was Snape doing this."

"Sounds fine to me. Much better than dealing with this."

"Snarky git." The older man sent him a frustrated look. "Anyone ever tell you you're insufferable?"

"Not as many times as they have to you." Harry gave a small smirk, though still eyed the door. "Losing your memory to senility?"

"Unbelievable." _Harry_ groaned. "It's a bloody miracle anyone put up with this. You do realise you're insulting yourself, right?"

"You started it." The Boy Who Lived frowned. "Oh sorry, no, you're right: proclaiming your younger self to be a lying maniac is _perfectly_ normal behaviour! What was I thinking. You know, whatever you want to tell me, forget it. I'd honestly prefer to put up with Snape."

"No, you wouldn't." The teacher sighed to himself, straightening up from his slouch against the desk. In an instant he realised this would only work with a compromise. "But fine, yes, you have a point. I might've been taking things too far. Ever since we wound up here my head's been a mess; I'm fearful about screwing up the timeline and worried about Voldemort's actions and my kids' safety. Not to mention worrying about how we'll get home, missing everyone we left, and thinking about the people here I haven't seen in years. So if I took my problems out on you, I'm sorry. I truly am. If I promise to ease up, will you at least hear me out?"

Harry hesitated, part of him still wishing to race out the door. "Depends on what you say."

His older self gave a small nod of understanding, crossing his arms as they finally got down to business. "You know how your scar's been acting up? How you've been having strange dreams, and angrier emotions than usual? This is due to your connection with Voldemort."

"Yeah, knew that already." Harry stated with a twinge of anger and teenage arrogance.

"But the connection can be blocked." _Harry_ plowed on through the interruption, and was rewarded with an interested look. "There's a mental magic called Occlumency, which is basically a technique to construct a mental defence around your mind from outside forces. These attacks usually come from the opposite of Occlumency, Legilimency, but we don't have to worry about that in particular. Instead, if you agree, I'll be teaching you how to build a 'mental wall' to counteract the connection with Voldemort. Once you've mastered it, you'll have no more visions. No more pain. No more intruding thoughts and emotions."

There was a beat of silence.

"Reminds me of _expecto patronum_." Harry broke the still air, taking turns staring at his hands and out the window. He took cares to not look directly at the professor.

_Harry_ quirked an eyebrow. "Occlumency being compared to Patronuses? That's a new one."

Harry looked up with a frown, finally meeting his other self's gaze. "You know what I mean."

_Harry_ shrugged. "Course I do. But I'd work on my explaining skills if I were you; not even Hermione can follow your crazier trains of thought."

"But I knew that you knew!" Harry argued. "If you've done this Occlumency before, than you must have thought almost the same things I'm thinking right now."

"Should I list the problems with that? Different scenarios, different frames of mind, years of difference between the two of us…and that you're just being lazy for not feeling like explaining properly." _Harry_ fiddled with his glasses. "You really ought to stop blurting out a thought without bothering to say how you arrived at the conclusion. It still drives my friends mad when I do that."

Harry's mouth quirked up into a smile. He had yet to notice that he did this whenever his best friends were mentioned. "Hermione at least does the same thing. Even worse though, because she'll rush off to the library and leave Ron and I in suspense."

_Harry_ shook his head. "Can't disagree with that. But those two still won't let me forget the time they thought I'd gone mad because I jumped to a conclusion."

"Mad, really?" Harry asked, at last easing into the conversation. "A bit harsh of them."

_Harry_ scratched the back of his neck. "Under normal circumstances, absolutely. But we were all extremely stressed, so when I started babbling about how three mythical items were real and in my possession, they naturally assumed I'd cracked." He shook his head at his younger self's bewildered expression. "Don't worry, turns out the conclusion I'd come up with was basically correct."

"So this entire thing was about...?" Harry questioned.

"About something you hopefully won't have to deal with." _Harry_ said succinctly, fingering his wand. "Now, back to the lesson. Explain to me, like a normal person would explain to someone not 'sharing' their thoughts, why you think Occlumency resembles _expecto patronum_."

Harry humphed but complied. "When I was learning the Patronus, at times I wanted to fail so I could hear my parents. Why wouldn't it be the same here? Why's it so important to close this 'connection'? I could spy on Voldemort! It could save peoples' lives or, or, or help the Order strategise! How's that a bad thing?"

"What about the pain from your scar?" _Harry_ said, forcing his voice to be light.

Harry stared at him disbelievingly. "You know I don't care about that."

"Yes you do." _Harry_ corrected. "Just because you haven't told anyone how much it hurts doesn't mean I don't know."

"That's not what I meant." Harry said testily. "If it means spying on Voldemort I can deal with it."

"What if he finds out about the connection and sends you false visions?"

Harry froze, his thoughts tumbling over what his older self had said. "The visions always seem real, much different than regular dreams. I, I would know the difference."

"I didn't." _Harry_ said so quietly that his younger self could barely hears him. "You're right: I did think exactly the same things as you. I wouldn't listen to Dumbledore, Hermione, or even Snape telling me how important it was to practice, to push him out of my head."

Silence fell again.

"What happened?" Harry asked after a pregnant pause. But he didn't want the man to answer.

"Voldemort sent me a vision." _Harry_ said thickly, glancing out the window, "I believed that Sirius was in danger at the Ministry, and I led my friends into a trap."

Harry's breath hitched, staring at the distant expression on his older self's face. A trap? Were the Death Eaters at the Ministry? How? But no, that didn't matter. The man wouldn't be acting like this if something hadn't gone terribly wrong. Who'd been hurt? Or was it like Cedric, where because of him someone had been—

"Stay away from the Department of Mysteries in the future. Okay? Hopefully that won't happen. Just, just understand that _this_ is why it's important for you to learn this." _Harry_ spoke in his regular voice, wrenching Harry out of his forlorn thoughts. "Do you agree to the lessons?"

"I—" he hesitated before, realising the answer was obvious, reluctantly nodded, "—fine. Whatever. When will the classes start?"

"No time like the present." With a wave Harry found himself standing, with the desks and his bag neatly stacked against the wall. He sent an annoyed look at his older self, who only returned it with a forced grin. "What? You're too busy putting off classwork and losing to Ron at chess this evening?"

Not wanting to agree, Harry instead stubbornly crossed his arms in a mirror image to his older self. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to send the Legilimency spell at you." _Harry_ said lightly, as though this was an everyday occurrence. "It'll work in roughly the same way Voldemort would attack—probing your mind for memories he's interested in."

"So…mind reading."

"You, you could say that." For some reason, _Harry_ seemed highly amused by this. "But we'll start out small. First I want you to close your eyes, relax, and go to your happy place."

Harry snorted.

"Shut it." His older self sent him a look until he reluctantly closed his eyes. "Imagine having to do this with Snape, without him giving instructions on how to defend your mind. Feeling relieved and generous towards me yet? Now, happy place!"

"You are such a gi—"

"Think of flying," Harry could practically see the man roll his eyes, even though his own remained closed, "and don't think of how many time paradoxes I'm creating by cheating and giving you all the answers. So, yeah. Picture yourself in the air. But not drifting on a broom. Instead imagine the sensation of a steep dive, where you know nothing in the world can stop you, that nobody can catch you, where your friends are shrieking at your recklessness but you don't care because you feel _so bloody brilliant_."

It was ridiculously simple to recall the sensation. At once Harry could feel the wind whistling in his ears, the shouts of the school falling back into a faint rumble, the sky stretching out before him, the knowledge that he could fly anywhere, that in that moment he was infinite…with the spot of gold in his view, heart leaping, a thrilled yell clinging in his throat—

"And…congratulations." Harry reopened his eyes to find his older self grinning at him. "It took me two weeks of proper lessons to get that last time. Merlin knows I tried every other positive emotion: leaving the Dursleys, finding out I was a wizard, spending time with friends, Hogwarts, the Burrow, winning the House Cup, winning the Quidditch Cup, winning the bloody war, celebrating the last with my girlfriend, firewhisky, and strip Quid—"

"Yeah, don't want to know!" Harry yelped, thoroughly red. "Look, what does the feeling of flying have to do with this?"

"It's like the Patronus." _Harry_ shrugged, still faintly amused. "You were right in a way, there's many similarities between the two. Both of the spells are based off of memories: the Patronus off of your happiest, and while Occlumency is a bit more complicated there's usually a significant overlap. For that one, you need to hold tight to whatever feeling you most want to capture. For you? It's freedom and the feeling that anything is possible. Don't read too much into it. Merlin knows my time's _Hermione_ has already psychoanalysed it to death. In a nutshell: Voldemort's trying to trap you in a corner and you're trying to escape to live your life. Voila! Flying."

"That—can't be all there is to it."

"Again, it's usually more complicated. But as usual, you're practically allergic to doing things the 'normal way'." _Harry_ gave him a slightly exasperated look. "Like I mentioned, it took me ages to even get this far. Just, be thankful I'm giving you all the short-cuts. But, no, there is more to it than flying. Think of…" he paused, looking into space as he contemplated his words, "…think of facing the Horntail in fourth year. Remember picturing it as another Quidditch team to defeat?"

"Sure…"

"This is much the same." _Harry_ nodded to his own explanation. "Voldemort's the big bad Slytherin Team, his power are the bludgers, your magic are the quaffles, the audience are background memories, and the golden snitch is whatever memory you're trying to protect."

"So I have to keep him from catching the snitch." Harry stared incredulously. "Are you sure you aren't taking this analogy too far?"

"Positive." _Harry_ grinned. "But that's only the start. Your true defence will be all of the obstacles you throw the attacker's way. Here's where it gets fun! You can imagine and create whatever you want. Make a swarm of false golden snitches. Have the bludgers go rogue. Make the quaffles or broomsticks hit the attacker over the head. Distract the attacker by having the audience start throwing spells. Make a giant dragon appear in the middle of the pitch! There's no real limits. It's a game of strength and strategy; if you lack one, you focus on the other."

Harry blinked. "…how did Snape did explain this to you? 'Make the attacker breath in poisonous fumes before hitting them with a cauldron'?"

"Snape—wasn't as detailed." A small frown appeared on the man's face. "That doesn't matter, you'll find out how someone can be an impatient git and a self-sacrificing hero later. So!" He gave a grin and pulled out his wand. "Concentrate on how to construct your obstacles, and then we'll start."

Harry, realising he wasn't going to get any more answers, sighed and closed his eyes once again. Quidditch Pitch. Quidditch Pitch. Quidditch Pitch. The students' screams in his ears, the smell of grass beneath his feet, the stands and turrets rising up above him to the wide blue sky with the goals hanging like little kids' **bubble sticks**. But, no. It shouldn't be a clear day. Throw in some clouds, darkness, a chill of wind, and a small circle around himself that was still warm.

"Ready yet?" _Harry_'s voice called out. He momentarily panicked: how long had he been picturing this? He wasn't ready! Throw out the bludgers and hide them in the now-stormy clouds. Multiply the quaffles and scatter them about. Make the snitch as small as possible and hide it…hide it somewhere…where? Someplace where it'd be protected…within imaginary Ginny's hoodie up in the Gryffindor section—

"Ready." He said uncertainly, eyes still shut tight. He coughed, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "Yeah, ready."

"_Legilimens!_"

Harry glanced around the pitch, wondering what had happened. Nothing had changed. The storm was still rolling overhead, the quaffles were searching for any intruder to attack, and no bludgers had come down from the clouds.

He fingered his broom uncertainly, before lifting off with a swoop and turning his gaze around to search the stadium. The pitch itself was deserted and absolutely nothing seemed to be amiss. Even with the audience, everything was how he imagined it: the teachers looked on stoically, the Slytherins jeered to add in confused noise, the Ravenclaws scouted the skies for the 'missing' attacker, the Hufflepuffs created more and more quaffles to fling out into the arena, and the Gryffindors tightly clutched their wands, ready and waiting to fire out spells. That is, all except for Ginny Weasley, who was happily chatting to a smirking Harry Potter as he pulled her into a hug and reached around towards her hoodie—

* * *

_With the ornamental entranceway already in the distance, Harry felt his breath halt in fear. He peered around every corner, convinced each would be his last. His wand clutched in his sweaty palm, he tried to ignore how much he was shaking, and shut away his doubts that he'd even be able to hit any monsters that showed themselves. God, why couldn't Ron and Hermione be here? But his best mate was back with Lockhart struggling with boulders, and his brilliant friend was frozen in the Hospital Wing, one arm stretched out like rock in front of her. He wondered if Ginny looked like that. But—if she _was_ actually stone._

_He glared at a passing serpent statue, willing his thoughts to clear. She wasn't dead. Ginny Weasley wasn't dead. She would be fine. He'd find her, they'd sneak away from the basilisk, they'd be fine!_

_They would. If he kept telling himself that, eventually he'd believe it. She would be alive…which was when he stepped out to the main chamber, water basking around him, statues flickering with life, and an unmoving red headed girl lying on the floor like a discarded doll._

_He dropped his wand and ran._

* * *

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts with a hiss, falling to the classroom's floor as his eyes jerked wide open.

"_Harry!_ Harry, are you okay?"

He shot back a sarcastic remark about how, oh yeah, he'd just had his memories trampled on, but he was fine! Just bloody peachy! He stayed on the ground for a moment. Another second to calm down, and if the blasted git didn't like it then too bad.

"I know you're annoyed but you need to answer me. Are you hurt?"

Harry glared at the anxious older man, eyes flashing crimson. Was he really that stupid? First he attacked his mind with a cheap trick, made him relieve a nightmare, and then have the nerve to ignore him! What the—

His anger again soared as _Harry_ knelt down and stared with a pale face. "Please, calm down. You're speaking parseltongue. I can't understand you."

Oh. Harry felt his frustration drop away. Parseltongue? "Sorry. I…wait. Is this better?"

"Yep, English." _Harry_ gave a small, forced smile, pulling the boy to his feet. He pulled a bar of chocolate from his pocket and broke a piece off with a sharp snap. "Eat this, you'll feel better."

"You're channelling Lupin." Harry said tiredly, though he took the chocolate and bit into it.

"They're worst people to channel." _Harry_ mused, inspecting him clinically. "Honestly though, I'm sorry. I didn't realise you were picturing the Chamber."

"Wasn't exactly conscious." The student muttered, already feeling the chocolate's warmth spread through him. He wondered if it was charmed. "Am I supposed to be able to control which memory is hidden?"

"With time." The older man gave a forced grin. "But I have to say, I'm impressed. You kept me back for a few minutes! That's fantastic for a first go."

Harry glared at him, swallowing another bite. "You went straight for Ginny!"

"I spent the entire time trying to _find_ Ginny." _Harry_ corrected. "Like I said, it was impressive. For some reason I was utterly convinced she was with the Hufflepuffs."

"But you knew I was hiding the snitch on her."

"Because I've done all of this before!" _Harry_ threw up his hands. "See the genius of it? No, I won't be as violent in my attacks as Voldemort. _But I know everything you'll do!_ If you can fend off my spells, you're good."

"But how," Harry shook his head in confusion, "how did you know I was going to hide it with Ginny? _I_ didn't even know! It just sort of…happened."

"Proves I know you better than yourself." The teacher smirked, snapping off another piece of chocolate and giving it to the lightly protesting boy. "Like how I know that, yes, you do want this, but you're too much of a proud Gryffindor to admit it. Take the damn chocolate. We'll start again in a minute."

Harry scowled but, after a pregnant pause, took a bite. He sent his other self a furious look that dared him to say a word.

* * *

"_Legilimens!_"

This time the entire pitch was cluttered with golden snitches; the air so thick with them that there was only just enough room for Harry to maneuver on his broom.

After five minutes he jerked around at a soft voice in his ear: "You wouldn't risk losing it." Before he could say or do a thing, a familiar hand was plucking the true snitch from his pocket—

* * *

_There were piercing spikes in his scar that felt as though something was trying to break through. He shivered at this odd thought and glanced at Dumbledore, who was intently listening to Umbridge. Harry felt a small twinge of anger brew in his stomach. The Great Hall was drifting off to sleep, but he kept his gaze resting just by the Staff Table. There was something there…so close…_

_A flicker of anticipation shot through him, so intense that he barely noticed the sheer blunt force trying to burst through his scar._

* * *

All at once they were back in the room. Harry looked up, wondering what had happened (why he would've chosen this memory to 'protect' and why the recollection had been cut off so rapidly), and then met his older self's stricken gaze.

"What is it?" The fifth year asked, wiping a few beads of sweat from his forehead.

"You don't want to know." The man said without thinking, before his eyes widened in realisation. "Wait, the pain, that's it!"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I thought it was because of the time travel. One of the effects of the paradox things Hermione's been going on about."

"No no, that's not what I meant." _Harry_ stood up and began pacing around. Though he did pause to break off another piece of chocolate for his student. "The initial pain might have been a connection between us, since we are essentially the same person-

"Uh huh." Harry said, not knowing where this was leading. He bit into the treat, not really paying attention to it.

"—but the _second_ pain, the 'bursting-through-your-scar' one? That wasn't me. I felt the first pain when I came back, but not the second. The only connection that you have that I don't—"

"Is the one with Voldemort!" Harry said, torn between excitement and worry. "If he felt it too, is that maybe why the timeline changed?"

_Harry_ nodded slowly. "It might make sense. I figured I had triggered the entire divergence when I stupidly got rid of Umbridge, but it didn't make sense that she'd be so directly linked with Voldemort. This could explain it."

"It would also explain why Snape was called to the Death Eater meeting. Wait," Harry nervously rubbed his scar, "didn't he say he was questioned about Legilimency?"

_Harry_ blew out a breath. "So Voldemort doesn't know about the connection, or at least doesn't understand. He thought he was attacked and when he questioned his minions he found out about the diary."

"So that's it, he doesn't know about the time travel." Harry said in relief, exchanging a look with his counterpart. "Aside from the last horcrux, we don't have to worry."

For a moment, _Harry_'s eyes flickered to his younger self's lightning bolt scar. He forced a smile.

"Yeah, nothing to worry about."

* * *

Al shoved the pile of books away. His brother didn't bother looking up from the page, not even when Lily started poking him idly with a quill.

"If you'd get your mind off of the fairy tales, you'd remember you're forgetting something important." Al plopped onto a seat, leaning in to speak. The library's shelves loomed around them, a rustle of giggled conversation from a few Ravenclaws hunched over a potions book drifted their way. The Parkers paid them no attention, though Lily did grimace as one of them let out a particularly pitchy squeal.

"Uh huh." James replied nonchalantly, swatting off Lily with a bookmark. "D'ya know that Merlin had the Elder Wand? An 'unbeatable' wand, but close enough."

Al ignored his brother's trivia. "Let me give you some hints." His fingers waved up to mark the points. "First: it's Friday morning. Second: something's happening this afternoon. Something that we have to prepare for. Got it? Remember now?"

"Hm mmm." The older brother nodded but didn't glance up. "Course, Morgana won the wand off of Merlin-wait, you both have free periods now too?"

"It's lunch." Lily poked him again less gently, leaning against the book-strewn table. "Look you prat, the Quidditch tryouts are today."

Jamie's head at last perked up. "Quidditch? Whatta?"

"The tryouts." Al repeated, rubbing his eyes while resisting the urge to start throwing hexes. "The problem is that it's only for keeper and Ron should get the spot. So what should we do?"

The other boy at last shut his book, blinking in confusion. "Erm, isn't that straightforward then?"

"Parts of it." Lily covered up a yawn. "I'm on sabotage duty."

"Naturally." Jamie nodded, not at all surprised. "But what's so complicated?"

"Should we try out for reserves?" Al asked in a whisper as Madam Pince sent a glare their way before ignoring them to intervene with the noisier Ravenclaws.

"Why not?" His expression grew dazed at the prospect of flying. "But there's the problem of brooms."

Al snorted. "Have you seen the supplies mum brought with her? She has enough Firebolts for all the school teams with a few left over."

Jamie couldn't help but grimace at the mention of 'Firebolts'. But Lily cut in before he could say a word. "It's the best broom, _now_. Merlin, how are you even more obsessed with speed than mum?"

"Like you aren't a daredevil flier." Jamie retorted. "Hey, I just thought—imagine how good dad must have been when he was younger!"

Lily sent out a quick _muffliato_ in disbelief before muttering. "Idiot, idiot, idiot. And what?"

"Imagine tricking him with a wronski feint!" Al joined in with sudden excitement, ignoring the disparaging look his sister sent his way.

Jamie's eyes widened as the two brothers got into the idea. "Wait. I can challenge mum! Erm, young mum!"

Al's mirth changed to anticipation. "Actually—"

"She'll go mental if I get the quaffle by her!"

"—Jamie, there's really something you should know—"

But his brother wasn't paying attention. "I can teach _her_ the Weasley Windmill. Merlin, that's ironic…"

"—she's not on the team yet." Al finally managed to cut in. Jamie froze, his arms up in mid-cheer. Silence descended.

"What?" The older Parker choked out, the wide smile still stuck on his face as his hands slowly lowered.

"She's not on the team." Lily replied drily, watching the giggling girls being unceremoniously booted from the library as their book on love potions was replaced on the shelf.

"She's the 'girl-who-soared'." Jamie hissed, an edge of steel to his voice. "The High-Flying Harpy and Pouncing Potter. You're telling me she's not on her House Team?"

Al silently reassessed his brother's Slytherin side. "Not 'til next semester."

"Next SEMESTER?" Jamie sharply cried, not noticing his scream take out his sister's muffling spell. "Of all the stupid, idiotic—SHE'S A BLOODY LEGEND! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON THIS CAPTAIN I'LL—oh. Oh, hi Madam Pince. We were just—owOwOW, not the ear! Not the bloody ear!"

The Parker siblings groaned as the library doors slammed shut behind them, their hurtled sacks landing roughly beside them. "Third time I've been thrown out this week." Jamie rubbed the side of his head as anger dwindled away to be replaced with pride. "Tossed out by my ear. Didn't think that was possible without magic."

"Shut it." Lily winced as she got to her feet. "Dratted, stupid brother who doesn't think before yelling!"

"I'm right here." Jamie swung his pack over his shoulder, ignoring Al's murmured 'Unfortunately'. "Come on, we have to find the captain and talk some sense into him."

"Her." Al corrected as he and Lily grabbed their book bags. "And have fun with that. I'm going to the opposite side of Hogwarts to avoid her wrath."

"Funny." Jamie grinned at Al's joke. "She can't be as bad as, say, Aunt Angie." Al and Lily exchanged a look.

"Wait, do you mean..." Jamie paused, his forehead scrunching in consternation. "...I could've sworn you were implying that _she's_ captain. Which would be mental; just look at what she did to our pick-up games."

The other siblings crossed their arms as they patiently waited for their brother to catch up with reality.

"-McGonagall's not that crazy." Jamie laughed nervously, his family's expressions not helping his suspicions. "She'd never pick someone that obsessed...with...the game..." his last words dwindled off as realisation and horror lighted in his eyes.

"Angelina Johnson is captain." Al's stoic expression twitched at Jamie's unabashed terror. "So if you want to tell her how she should organise Quidditch-"

"No!" He shouted in alarm, stumbling back a few steps. "No, nope, I'm good. No death wish here, none at all."

Lily snorted. "Says the daredevil in the family."

Al looked at her strangely. "Are you feeling okay? That's dad."

"Jamie's giving him a run for his money." She sniggered at his expression. "Getting in the way of Aunt Angie and Quidditch; you're an idiot."

"I'm not actually going to do it." He retorted grumpily, his horror wearing off. "Sure, it's a crime that Ginny's not on the team but—"

"—you're terrified of the captain?" Al absently avoided his brother's tickling hex.

"Who isn't?" Jamie deftly protested. "Even dad ran screaming last time she wanted to play mid-air pass the parcel, filibuster fireworks edition."

All three children involuntarily shuddered. Finally, Al ventured a few words. "Can I say how sad it is that we're not the craziest branch of the family?"

"I'm guessing I shouldn't take that as a challenge?" Lily smirked. "Or as an invite to do something mental like, oh, force us twenty years back in time?"

"Git." Jamie mildly protested as Al sniggered. "It could've been worst. I could've—"

"—screwed up the space-time continuum?" Al suggested innocently, sharing a victorious look with his sister. Jamie felt that this was a perfect time to bang his head against the deserted corridor's wall.

"You really are a prat." He growled under his breath.

"Well," Al whispered, "you probably made it so we'll never be born. Next you'll, I dunno…"

"Snog Ginny?" Lily got into the whispered conversation with a delighted smile. Her grin only brightened at the disgusted looks she produced on her brothers' faces.

Jamie felt like resuming hitting the wall but forced himself to start walking down the hallway. "This isn't 'Back to the Future'." He tried not to gag at the image. "It's like, like an alternative worlds thing. Sure. That's it." They walked in relative silence (or at least with minimal explosions, which passed for silence when the Parkers were involved) for a corridor or so.

"You know, if this _is_ like 'Back to the Future'…" Al broke in on Lily's newest rant on the bloody Blood Quills which she was positive tasted like chicken.

"…which it's not." Jamie emphatically huffed, wishing they could leave the topic alone.

"If it _is_," Al continued like there had been no interruption, "then we won't get home immediately."

His siblings looked confused. "Marty got back home."

"Before instantly leaving on another adventure." Al said drily, adjusting his pack.

Lily seemed about to protest but instead turned towards a few whispers around the next corner. Jamie, not noticing this, just shrugged at his brother. "We aren't fictional characters."

"There is that—" Al was rapidly cut off as Lily clenched a hand to his mouth and forcibly pulled them off to hide behind the corner. Jamie, peeved but impressed at his little sis' strength, forgot all about it as the hushed whispers of another conversation floated over to him.

* * *

"He's taking a nap?" Hermione said to Ron disbelievingly as they raced into the Great Hall. "But he never takes naps."

Ron shrugged, grabbing a bunch of food and stuffing it into a satchel. "First time for everything. He was up with the 'lesson' all night and practically fell asleep while experimenting with moonstones in Potions. Snape was about to hex him so he figured he shouldn't risk it with McGonnagal's vanishing charms or flying later." Finishing the packing and getting some fruit, he hauled the small feast onto his shoulder. Hermione didn't notice his slight flinch at the mention of flying. "Said I'd bring some food back to the dorm. Wanna come?"

"'Some' food?" Hermione eyed the bulging sack incredulously, even while she grabbed a sandwich and followed Ron out.

"I'm hungry!" The redhead protested while he bit into a banana. "Ah. 'sa better."

The brunette witch shook her head as they made their way up to Gryffindor Tower. She was close to making a comment about him talking with his mouth full, but was too pleased with him helping Harry even in this little way that she didn't say a word. Which was odd, because any other day she would have long since started an argument. But she was unsure about exactly where they stood with each other and, judging only just from the awkward breakfast and silent classes, the random kiss last night might have broken something pivotal in their relationship.

Hermione only just stopped herself from running into a suit of armour in the Entrance hall. She shook her head to try and get rid of her distraction. The kiss was just that: a kiss. It was very nice, and hopefully Ron and her would kiss some more very soon—she couldn't help but skip up a few steps—but it certainly hadn't 'broken' anything.

Of course not.

So what if Ron hadn't said anything about it? She hadn't either. They just needed a chance to talk about what would happen, that's all. Maybe not now though. Not that she was putting it off, she just needed some time to get her views on things in order. Yes, that's right. Then after the talk she would feel far better. Of course she would: she just needed a little order to resettle the rightful balance of everything.

Thus, aside from these questioning thoughts, a few stares from Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, and accidentally ramming into a herd of wild invisible fizzing whizbees by a gleeful Luna Lovegood, the trip up to Gryffindor Tower was uneventful. Even after they gave the password to the Fat Lady and crossed into the Common Room nothing seemed to be amiss. Indeed, Ron would have headed up to his dorm if Hermione hadn't tugged him at the last moment to turn to the occupied couches closest to the fireplace.

While everyone else was giving this group a wide berth, Ron and Hermione were friends with the boy-who-lived for a reason, and were well used to sliding into potentially dangerous situations. But even they looked as though they might turn and run as Lily sent them a poisonous stare. Still, curiosity gave way and they both stepped forward.

"...yeah, see then," Jamie was having a whispered conversation with a chuckling Fred and George while Al edged away from his frozen younger sister, "so they were chatting behind the corner. Lavender was insulting dad, which made Lily angry, which made Al freak out and hex her to avoid a fight." He took a deep breath. "Which is why I'm officially the sanest of the three of us!"

Fred chuckled as the group noticed Ron and Hermione approaching. "So you plan on keeping your little sister in a body-bind?"

"You're a true Gryffindor." George said with a wink as Al turned red. Hermione paused for a second before realisation of what had happened hit her.

"It's not funny." She said to the younger kids, a disapproving frown lingering on her lips as she steadfastly refused to notice Ron's chuckle. "What did Lavender say that made Lily try to attack her?"

Al and James looked at each other and fidgeted. The latter at last spoke up. "She was going off about how da–Harry is lying about Voldemort being back and that he's, well...an insane lunatic."

Hermione's gaze instantly softened. "Lily, good job. Al, even better job for stopping her."

"That's not the point." George whistled, impressed. "You lot get in more trouble than us—"

"—Gred!" Fred cried out. "Don't say such a blasphemous thing."

"Fred, mate, that's a big word!" Lee called from behind them, making them all (sans a silently fuming Lily) jump as he and Angelina approached. "Have you been studying? Please say no, I don't want the world to end."

"Hilarious." Angelina rolled her eyes and looked at the bigger group. "I wanted to talk to the Quidditch players at lunch but I was told you were all up here. Where's Harry? I need to give you a few reminders for…wait. Is that girl cursed?"

"Harry's upstairs." Ron thumbed towards the staircase.

"Lily's only hexed." Al groaned. "Body-bind. She's my sister but she tried to attack someone, so I stopped her before she could get in trouble."

Angelina frowned. "Does your sister usually look so, murderous? Why is she still hexed?"

"Because she isn't usually exactly so murderous." Jamie replied. "Though, that might be because of the comments we made about her weight while dragging her back here. Before we thought to levitate her, that is."

Lily's glare abruptly switched from one brother to the other. Al rubbed his eyes as his sister sat with her limbs firmly rooted to the chair and her body unmoving. "Oh come on Lils, you overreacted. Lavender Brown's annoying but you can't punch her." Her eyes narrowed as she struggled against the spell. James absently turned a page in his book.

"I don't care if she deserved it, you can't hex her either." Al continued, correctly interpreting Lily's glare. "Or me for that matter."

"What's going on?" Angelina asked again.

Ron coughed to muffle a chuckle. "Trust me, you don't want to know. Not sure if you'd believe it."

"I'm always up for a good story." Lee said with a smile.

Lily struggled against the body-bind but Al's curse held true. The latter just shook his head. "Lily has a short temper. So when she heard that girl insult dad—err—" Al hesitated, realising why Jamie found it so easy to let things slip, "—I mean, she was insulting our mum because of dad. Yeah. Sure. That's right." Jamie finally looked up from his book to smirk at Al as if to say, 'Not so easy, is it.' The glare Al sent back was a clear 'Shut it.' The others looked at each other in confusion.

"What isn't easy?" Angelina asked hesitantly, regretting entering this conversation.

"It's okay little bro. I've got this." Jamie said confidently, turning to the small audience. "That girl Lavender has a crush on dad–which is revolting, by the way–and then turned to insulting mum. Little Lils here went bananas and tried to jump her, but Al caught her mid-pounce with a body-bind. We brought her in here and he's going frantic figuring out how to undo the spell without getting cursed."

Al groaned as Ron winced. "I feel your pain."

"Oh yeah, Al stole the idea from you guys." The oldest Parker looked at the two members of the Golden Trio with mischievous curiosity. "Got any hints on how to unfreeze her? She shouldn't be as bad as Harry, but she'll probably attack both me and Al."

"Al and I." Hermione automatically corrected before groaning. "If she reacts in the same way then only the person who threw the hex will be in danger."

"_What?_" Ron asked her disbelievingly. "Harry almost took out the dorm room!"

"But it was almost entirely directed at you." Hermione pointed out.

Ron groaned before turning to a paling Al. "Look, if she's anything like him she'll go ballistic and be very, extremely scary. Though at least she won't conjure a bloody snake and tell it to attack you." He finished with a moan which was rapidly cut off.

"Dad _told_ a snake?" Jamie loudly exclaimed as all three Parkers looked shocked. "The hell?"

"He didn't tell the snake to attack…" Hermione's correction trailed off as she realised exactly what Jamie had let slip, "…oh bugger."

"Who said what now, and did Little Miss Prefect curse?" Lee said slowly, putting a finger in his ear to scrub it out. "I don't think I heard that right. What?"

Angelina blinked in confusion. "Excuse me? What does Harry attacking Ron—which is a story I need to hear—have to do with Professor Parker?"

Jamie had paled by now, with everyone in the know glaring at him. The few other Gryffindors in the Common Room watched in puzzlement. "Ah—nothing. Nope, nothing at all. I'm just tired. Really, really tired and um, oh! Gred and Forge, did you dose me with a Confuddling Concoction?"

George took up the excuse without hesitation. "Oi! We didn't dose you, you volunteered."

"Must show that the concoction's working." Fred winked at Angelina.

"Yeah, yeah that's it." Jamie said in a suddenly dazed tone of voice. "Wow, these things are effective. Was I hit over the head by a Wrackspurt? Is it still on me?"

"Yep, definitely confuddled." Ron agreed confidently as the younger boy swatted at invisible things circling his head.

Angelina's confusion broke into suspicion. "He was acting normally just a minute ago, and that's a very strange sentence to misspeak."

Al spoke up, finishing glaring at his brother. "Jamie does that all the time. You wouldn't believe how many misinterpretations we have to live with." Lily gave a muffled noise of agreement.

"I don't know." Lee said hesitantly, exchanging a glance with Angelina as a few other students came over to see what the racket was about. "Haven't we just been working on perfecting Fainting Fudges? What's this about 'Confuddling Concoctions'?"

"Broaden your horizons, Lee old boy." George stood up to drape an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Multitask! You have to see all the new notes."

"What?" Lee looked at his best friends in befuddlement. Fred broke in before he could continue on.

"Brilliant idea Forge." Fred too sprang to his feet. "Take Lee and Angelina to the papers, I'll wake ickle Harrikins and we'll meet in the Entrance Hall for Quidditch news before classes. Right? Right."

"Wait—" Angelina cried out but George was already deftly pulling her out of the Common Room. Without wasting any time, Fred ushered the others up to the fifth year boys' dormitory.

"More troublesome than us, humph." Fred muttered, carefully levitating the still-frozen Lily up the stairs. "Come crawling to us to get you lot out of trouble."

"Hey!" Al protested. "We didn't do anythi…" he trailed off when his young uncle turned to look at him, "okay, Jamie let something slip. But that's pretty normal for him."

"Thanks, appreciate it." Jamie said sarcastically, tugging his hair as they climbed. "You don't think they'll ask questions, right?"

Fred snorted. "Have you met Lee and Angelina? They're more curious and noisy than our resident 'Golden Trio'! Why d'ya think they're friends with us?"

"Thanks." Hermione echoed Jamie with a frown, realising who Fred was referring to. "But this could be a problem; too many things have been let slip. Oh everyone, shush, don't wake Harry." She carefully opened the dorm door. No one could be seen inside, but the curtains around the boy-who-lived's bed were closed.

"Yes, definitely do not want to wake sleeping beauty." Fred said with a quiet laugh, setting a fuming Lily down.

"What're we worried about?" Ron said quietly, dumping his pack of food on the floor. "Just get 'Professor Parker'. He's done enough obliviations that one more shouldn't matter."

"_Ron._" Hermione exasperatedly groaned, sitting on Neville's unkempt bed. "That spell shouldn't be taken lightly. Too much of it on a person in a short space of time can be dangerous."

"We can't tell dad." Jamie hurriedly agreed, sending a passing, wary glance at the shut curtains. "I'm in enough trouble as it is and mum would go mental. They've been complaining about having to wipe some Ravenclaws' and Gryffindors' memories multiple times—something about them being too smart for their own good?"

"Jamie, you're an idiot, but I do think using countless obliviates isn't a good idea." The brunette nervously bit her lip. "So we either tell the adults or find a way to nip any rumours in the bud without the involvement of obliviation. The second one would be best."

"So we aren't telling anyone else?" Ron said disbelievingly. "There's nothing we can do Hermione!"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Fred leaned against the 'Lily-statue', ignoring the small girl's venomous glare. "There's always options, you just have to be creative about it."

"Like what?" Al said. "You, you do realise how pissed off Lily'll be at you when she can move, right?"

Fred waved it away. "No worries, we'll get a third party to un-hex her in front of Lavender Brown while we're safe elsewhere. See? Creative thinking. Works like a charm."

Jamie brightened with renewed hope. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Maybe." Fred stepped away from Lily while rubbing his chin in thought. "They didn't buy the confunding thing, so that's out. A secret 'Golden Trio code'? Huh, maybe. But why not—oh! That's it."

"What's it? Really though, stop calling us the 'golden' thing." Ron looked at his excited brother with a great deal of hesitance. Which was unsurprising, considering the amount of explosions (accidental and otherwise) which followed the Twins' wake.

"Dark Lord Potter!" Fred cheered before returning to a whisper as there was a stirring from the bed. "Woo, George will absolutely go along with this. Though we'll need polyjuice…"

"Wait, what?" Jamie blinked. "Dark Lord Potter? Now I know you're having me on."

"Not at all, young Padawan." Fred said delightedly, rubbing his hands in expectation. "Jamie, you should come to test out your pranking skills. Oh, and because this was entirely your fault. Of course."

"No. No, no we are not doing that!" Hermione rapidly paled as the others gaped at the smirking tall redhead. "Harry has enough problems with rumours as it is. How would this help at all, and what on earth are you talking about? You—" she blinked in realisation before groaning, "—you've watched Star Wars? Who let you two…never mind, it doesn't matter. But if I see anyone with a lightsaber someone's hand is coming off!"

Ron blinked in confusion as Al looked at his young aunt in surprise. "Is everyone a secret Dark Lord?"

"Apparently." Jamie shrugged. "I still can't believe dad talked to snakes, and now Aunty's chopping off limbs. Eh. If it gets me out of trouble."

"That's the spirit." Fred said cheerily, draping his arm around Jamie's shoulders. "So, let's rescue George from the interrogation and start the plan going!"

"But what plan…" Hermione's question trailed off as the two rushed from the room, "…I hate it when that happens."

Ron snorted. "That's rich. You and Harry constantly run off with no explanation."

"Um, guys?" Al said warily as his young aunt and uncle began to bicker. "Any ideas on how to handle Lily? Ron? Hermione?"

The youngest Parker silently groaned to herself, wondering when in Merlin's name someone was going to take the hex off, and whether or not she should lock her dear brothers in a broom cupboard with a dozen excited nargles with a few bludgers thrown in to excite things.

* * *

Fred smiled in what he thought was a reassuring way. "Would we lie to you?"

"Yes, yes you would." James eyed the bottle in his hand warily. "This isn't going to turn me pink or scaly?" His oversized shirt sleeve flapped against the glass' side as he gestured.

The Twins smirked at each other. "Both good ideas—"

"—but not the symptoms of this particular potion."

"I should have gotten unbreakable vows from you two. How'd you even get this potion so quickly?" James muttered, gazing at the blurred goblet. Common sense dictated that he shouldn't trust the Twins, and his past didn't instil any confidence. Which brought him back around to the current problem: fighting against his instinct to never accept anything from a Potter or Weasley without a healthy dose of paranoia. Still, maybe he was over thinking this. Would the twins really do a prank within a prank?

Jamie shook his head, annoyed at his stupidly obvious internal question. Looking up at his young uncles he steeled himself. After all, he was a Gryffindor, a Weasley, and a Potter. Screw bloody common sense, what's life without a few risks? Though this had better not screw up his chances with Quidditch. Lily had likely already killed Al by now, so it'd be even easier to get a reserve position–if he could talk Aunt Angie into it after this prank.

With one last cautious look, James plugged his nose and chugged the bright red potion. Quite a bit of it came spurting out as he spluttered, glaring at the twins in disgust.

"You _only_ put your hair in, right? Because if that had toenails-"

But James choked on his sentence as he felt his body–vocal chords, throat and mouth included–stretch upward. The twins began to calmly chat as though nothing unusual was happening.

"Great plan this is." George adjusted his tie. "Two birds with one stone."

Fred plucked the dropped goblet from the ground. "Exactly. We poke fun at Angie's and Lee's suspicions and simultaneously prank the school. I can't believe how quickly the crazy rumours have spread–only a handful of Gryffindors heard."

"Doesn't matter." His twin smirked. "You're right, it'll be exactly like the, 'Look out, here comes Dark Lord Potter!' all over again. People just can't take a ridiculed situation seriously."

"It's genius, Georgie. Sheer brilliance." Fred tossed the goblet back and forth between his hands as James groaned and clumsily sat up. "I can't wait to see their faces."

"Still, I wish we'd gotten Teddy." George said mournfully. James gave a yelp of strangled protest which the Weasleys ignored. "Too bad he's been hiding somewhere all day."

"I know—no time limit." Fred shook his head at the lost possibilities. "But he's on the dark side now."

"As is young Harry."

"Old Harry." Fred corrected.

George shrugged as James rose unsteadily to his feet. "At least we can corrupt his son. So Jamie, you ready mate?"

Even while clutching the sink for support, James' expression would have sent any teacher running in the opposite direction. This was more than enough of an answer for the identically smirking twins.

James' grin grew as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, though that was partly out of relief to see that he had not been turned into a polka-dotted donkey. Or a buzzing nargle. Or, or-

The Potter gave himself a mental jab as the three strode out of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Yes–James thought as a few second years shrieked and scurried away in terror–Aunt Hermione would probably have a fit if she ever heard some of his inner dialogue.

* * *

At first, it was only the door to the Great Hall bursting open which caught anyone's attention. These initial students looked over to see what the noise was, before returning to their food when they saw it was just a group late for dinner. There was a moment's pause as the air stilled, before heads were jerked up in a double-take of the entering redheads. Mouths hung wide open, while clanging forks and food fell back to their plates.

The Gryffindors who noticed something amiss were momentarily torn between staying to watch the show, or run screaming from the hall to hide in their dorms until it was over. All of the Lions, that is, except for one Harry Potter. The presence of these three startled him but, ever since the time traveling fiasco, every other surprise seemed to pale in comparison. He just yawned, returning to his baked potatoes while mentally figuring out a note for Cho. Ron, who was not as observant or unflappable as his best friend, spat out a glob of roast beef as twin hands clapped his shoulders. Hermione and Ginny were just about to make noises of disgust when their jaws dropped at the sight before them.

"Ronnikins!" The third triplet ruffled Ron's hair. "Don't let mum see your table manners."

Ron looked up and behind him. He dropped his fork as his face blanched to vampire pale. "Bloody freaking hell." Angelina, Katie, and Alicia stared at the redheads in amazement and dread. Lee began snickering.

The triplet to the right shook his head sadly. "Forget about table etiquette, do you kiss your mum with that mouth?"

The third triplet sniggered. "The real question is, with him constantly occupied with food and curses, how will he get Hermione to snog him?"

"Quite right, Gred old chap."

"Oi! I'm not Gred, I'm James!"

The first triplet looked annoyed. "I'm James you git. You're Forge!" The Gryffindor group watched as the squabbling Weasley Twins-Turned-Triplets became more and more exasperated. All at once, the three turned to Harry.

"Dad!" The triplets cried in unison. "Tell them I'm James."

Harry's eye twitched. Oblivious to the possible danger of an annoyed boy-who-lived, the tall, identical redheads pushed their way into seats on either side of Ron and Harry, who were gripping their wands in paranoia and irritableness, respectively.

"So mum," the first triplet said lightly to a flinching Ginny, "what's got everyone's knickers in a twist?"

The second triplet hit him over the head. "Forge, you wanker! Addressing your own sister like that?" He turned to a paling Ginny. "Sorry mum."

"I thought Hermione was mum today?" Asked the third one nonchalantly, picking up a pastry. "Though Cho has the role all of next week, and Angie the month after." Said Quidditch Captain's eyes narrowed as she picked up a fork threateningly. Lee looked a moment away from collapsing with laughter.

The second triplet rolled his eyes. "It's stealing my identity, that's what it is. And did both of you drink a confunding potion? Going around calling students your parents–what's next. Declaring that you're Voldemort's twin brother?" The three paused in thought at this last sentence. Harry twitched again.

"_All_ of you were calling them mum and dad. And don't start on me!" Hermione cried in exasperation, sending razors at the triplets.

The second one, coming out of his pranking plans, nodded solemnly. "Of course Auntie." Hermione winced. "I know that _I_ took a confunding potion. I was asking if these gits did as well."

The other two rolled their eyes in answer. "Obviously." Third replied.

"Why else would we call them that?" The first one finished. "So dad, has the DADA Professor turned out to be evil yet?"

The third one looked annoyed. "He's _my_ dad, Gred. Can't you see the resemblance?" The first and second ones scrutinised the third, before shaking their heads regretfully.

"Sorry Gred." The first spoke. "You haven't turned into a blind, dark-haired midget yet. Better luck tomorrow."

The third humphed and crossed his arms. "At least I'm the most handsome of us lot."

"Oi!" The other two shouted.

"That hurts us deep, Forge. Very deep. Extremely deep."

"Exactly." The second one agreed before looking confused. "Hang on a mo, wasn't I Forge?"

Third shook his head emphatically. "You're Jamie."

First looked enlightened. "Ah yes, that's right. Wait, then which of us is Gred?"

"Both. Or neither." Second answered simply, winking at Hermione as her annoyance swelled. "I'm having trouble keeping up. Auntie, can I borrow your notes?"

Ginny spoke before Hermione could resort to homicide. "I thought you were all arguing about who was James?" The three nodded encouragingly. "But," she continued, regretting getting into the conversation, "you just said that one of you _was_ James."

"Jamie, not James." Second spoke slowly, looking rather impressed by his logic.

Ginny rubbed her eyes. "If you are all pretending to be James, then why not transform into him instead?"

"Mum, mum, mum." The third one spoke in a betrayed voice. "You're questioning us?"

The first one nodded along in agreement. "Always knew you liked Al and Lily more than me."

"More than _me_, not you, you git." The second one huffed. "Stop stealing mum and dad!"

"I should say the same to you!" The third replied.

"I solemnly swear I'm not related to either of you." The first one flicked invisible fluff off of his cloak.

The third snorted. "That's even more impossible than this entire conversation."

"Be quiet!" Hermione yelled, strangling her paper napkin.

"I think we've confused her." Second stage whispered to Third as all three watched with unrestrained glee as Hermione steadily morphed into a steaming tomato.

* * *

While this was proceeding, Al had taken off Lily's body-bind. Some quick talking later, and he had only just managed to talk her down from vicious cursing (he still wasn't entirely sure how she'd gotten her wand back, and she wasn't in any mood to explain). In his game of 'let's-distract-the-sister', he tempted her with showing her a passageway she didn't know about.

The first attempt fell flat, when it became apparent that the one behind the trio of fanged gargoyles didn't exist in 1995.

For the second, Al mixed up the corridors for the statue of the Fates and ended up turning himself around (he blamed the 143rd staircase, which he insisted was only visible on the 1st and 15th of every month).

As for the third, Lily already knew about the short-cut hiding behind the tapestry of Galinda the Good (otherwise known as Helga Hufflepuff in her free-spirited days, where she took great liberties with a time-turner, cross-dimensional devices, and a giant bubble). By this time, the siblings were hopelessly late for lunch. Their ensuing shouted argument attracted the attention of two adults who were likewise running late. _Harry_ and _Ginny_ exchanged a fond though exasperated glance at their kids' dulcet tones and kept behind the corner, peering out to ensure that there was no actual trouble (being well-versed in the doctrines concerning curious parental eavesdropping).

"—useless, both of you." Lily humphed, crossing her arms with a scowl. "Jamie for getting into this mess, _you for hexing me_, and both of you for being idiots!"

"I hexed you to avoid you attacking another student!" Al huffed. Their unseen parents exchanged a glance, a shrug, and decided to investigate later. "Also, yeah, this entire situation is mad, but it was an accident. Can we really keep blaming Jamie?"

"I can!" Lily rapidly responded, raising a hand to make her point. "But you're almost as bad with the pop culture references. We aren't fictional characters!"

"That's what you're upset about?" Al asked, exasperated. "No, of course we aren't, it's just a bit of fun. Making light of a bad situation. But come on, it's not as though you haven't made a joke about timey-wimey…" he paused, a look of epiphany crossing his expression, "…maybe it's not like 'Back To The Future'."

"What?" Lily started, as did the still-unnoticed parents. "Not this again! I swear, it's worse than the hex—"

"Doctor Who! Don't know why I didn't think of it before." Al nodded, a grin spreading across his face. He was perfectly happy with taking the distraction and running with it, eager to avoid his sister's bat-boogey hex. "Works much better. Mum's River, dad's the Tenth or Eleventh Doctor, you could pass for Amy, and Dumbledore would be the First or Fourth."

_Ginny_ gave a soft laugh while _Harry_ ducked his head back to do the same. Both were overjoyed that the kids were apparently taking the time travel mess so well, but this was too perfect to resist listening in to; while justifying this as trying to work out what in Merlin's name the 'hexing' was referring to.

Al noticed nothing and continued without pause, not wanting Lily to have time to go from confused to angry. "I'd be…the human Tenth? Yeah, that works; 'clone of dad' and all. Meta-crisis, whatever. Jamie's like Jack, what with the obsessions over the Hallows or a dismembered hand. Hermione's Donna, and dad's crazy jealous of the Weasleys because they're gingers! Oh, and Voldemort's the Master. Or a Dalek. A Sontaran?"

Lily made a small choking sound, while silent laughs were unheard from behind the corner. "…you just called me mum's mum and dad's stepmum…"

"I didn't mean it literally." Al shook his head, disbelieving his sibling's short-sightedness.

"…you're switching around the series…"

"Time's wibbly-wobbly! I think we've proven that."

"…mum's going to pretend to kill dad and be sent to Azkaban…"

"Way too literal! Christ, it was a metaphor."

"…Dumbledore is mum's future/past/present ex? Jamie's a bisexual immortal?" Lily could barely get out the last words for laughing.

"ALL RIGHT! It was a bad idea, I get it. STOP WITH THE IMAGES!"

_Ginny_ collapsed against _Harry_, giving into silent giggles. His wife got ahold of herself just as the kids began to leave, still bickering about Time Lords, fictional time travel, and why some students deserved to be hexed for being blind, oblivious gits.

"Are you thinking what I am?" _Ginny_ whispered in _Harry_'s ear. He looked at her askance in the darkened space as he heard soft footsteps and a steaming argument heading towards the Great Hall. "After rehashing all of the kids' pranks to our families—goodness, I didn't think Sirius would ever get enough of it—I think it's about time we played one of our own."

* * *

**A/N:** If you've been trying to guess who's Fred/George/Jamie, good luck. I thought it'd be the most chaotically fun to randomly write the dialogue while paying absolutely no attention to which triplet said what :D

If you don't know much about 'Doctor Who': I am so, so sorry.

Then the Occlumency? Harry, Harry, Harry. Terrible things happen to wizards who mess with time. Don't you listen to Hermione?


	23. Seeking and Scoring

**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry again for the wait but I've been working on my dissertation, condensing this fic, and writing other stories. I'll be constantly changing 'HiT' as I go along, so you might notice some scenes being added/altered/deleted from past chapters. Don't worry about it, most of them will just be missing moments. If I do add anything crucial to the plot I'll make a note of it for you guys.

**General Disclaimer:** Ever since moving to Scotland and playing Quidditch at my university (yep, you read that right) I've been far more sympathetic to the HP kids having to play half-blind in miserable weather. See, glasses in Scottish rain/windstorms are useless–especially after being repeatedly body-slammed into the mud by Slytherins. How the bloody hell did Harry Potter EVER find the snitch? I play chaser so all I have to do is tackle the blurry-shaped people to wrestle the quaffle from them, which is hard enough! Basically: I'm not Rowling 'cause I would have made Quidditch make sense *ducks the _crucio_s headed her way*

* * *

_"Iloveyourflying." Harry blurted out. "I–I mean, I think you're a great seeker. I was wondering if you'd like to fly with me? Sometime, you know, whenever."_

_"I'd love to!" Cho knew she was glowing and didn't care. Harry Potter liked her flying! Harry still liked her! (From Ch. Ravenclaws and Relationships)_

* * *

"_Liar_." A passerby hissed.

"Hear any voices lately, Potter?" A group of sixth years smirked.

"Late for your appointment at St. Mungo's? Don't know how you snuck out of the psychiatric wing."

Harry took a few steadying breaths as he tried to calm down his temper. Though it was bad enough that it was always on the surface these days, the constant accusations from the entire wizarding world certainly didn't help matters.

"Don't know why they let him back in." A Ravenclaw whispered to her friend, raising her voice as she spotted the angry Gryffindor. "What with Diggory's death–"

On automatic Harry jerked his wand out of his pocket. It took a few moments for him to see anything other than red and realise that he was pointing it at the gossiping witches' backs.

"Damn it." Harry stowed away his wand with a groan. He leaned against his Firebolt as he attempted to ignore the renewed whispering and pointing around him. He rubbed his glasses and focused on breathing calmly.

But he knew it was useless. His thoughts were whirling with worries, theories, and an anger that never seemed to disappear. He should be concentrating on his upcoming date with Cho, but the happy anxiousness which he knew he should be feeling just wouldn't come. Instead, his mind was filled with the accusations of his peers, Seamus' continued stupidity, the mess that came with the Parkers, and the nagging fear that everything was spinning out of control.

Merlin, lately he'd even felt he was losing his mind. True, the time travel and horcrux insanity was likely enough to make anyone go spare. But swearing that he spotted Sirius' animagus form darting around a corridor this morning?

Harry shook his head in bewilderment. Yes, he definitely needed to get more sleep; those nightmares clearly weren't doing him any favours. At least he'd been able to catch a nap before-

"Fancy seeing you here." Cho smiled as she walked over across the Entrance Hall and gawking kids, broomstick in hand and hair bouncing in a loose braid behind her. "Don't tell me, you must be meeting someone. A date perhaps? Is she cute?"

Harry cast the Ravenclaw a sheepish grin, adjusting his glasses as he pointedly ignored the staring students around them. "Glad you got my owl. But Cho, no need to fish for compliments. You look brilliant."

She shook her head, a small blush also lingering on her expression. "Well Potter, trying to get in my good books after dragging me from dinner?"

"Potter?" He stifled a snort as they both headed out onto the grounds. "Okay, fine 'Chang'. But I didn't drag you from dinner! Quidditch practice normally starts this early–ah. Wait, I forgot that Oliver Wood was never your Captain; this was absolutely late for him."

"That would explain it. Wood was always a tad fanatical." She said care-freely, glancing at the sky with a seeker's contemplativeness. "Still, he had nothing on Roger."

"Roger Davies?" Harry said disbelievingly. "I figured he was the calmest of the House Captains."

"Calm?" She struggled to keep from laughing. "Harry, he made plans for every contingency."

He nodded slowly, not quite understanding how that equalled Wood's insanity. She sighed. "I mean it: _every possible outcome_. Every weather condition, whether someone got a cold versus the flu, if you got a haircut-"

"Wait, what?"

"-not to mention the sabotage plans he wrote up. Oh, he never used them–I think it was just a stress reliever–but they'd put Slytherin to shame." Cho continued, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Most of the schemes centred around the other teams conveniently losing their brooms, an attack by cornish pixies, or there being a freak transfiguration which saw the opposing side all turned into hinkypuffs."

"..." Harry shook his head, trying to get rid of the unwanted images. "You win. But Gryffindor still had to practice on empty stomachs."

"So now you're spreading the joy to me." Cho smiled to make the words less harsh.

"I really am sorry about the timing. Angelina's booked the pitch from five so there wasn't a lot of time." Harry scratched the back of his head as the two neared the Quidditch Pitch. "Oh and, um, I know I'm going to regret asking, but you were joking about the handicaps. Right?"

Cho snorted as they entered the Quidditch Pitch. "Joking? Not at all. But I will let you choose your poison."

"I-" Harry began to answer before thinking better of it. He shook his head in confusion, though he was secretly glad for the distraction. "This is the weirdest date."

"It was your idea," Cho dropped her broom to the ground as they both came to a halt in the pitch. She opened her bag, "I'm just putting my spin on it. So: handcuffs, blindfold, or 'mysterious surprise'?"

Harry stared at her (as she held up fluffy pink handcuffs) in amazement.

"Now I know you're pulling my leg." He finally said, grinning, also dropping his broom to the ground. "Fine, I'll play along. I'll take the mysterious surprise."

Cho nodded once, picked up Harry's broom and handed it back to him. Curiously, he took it in hand and, at her prompting, began to mount it.

"No no no Harry." She shook her head as the confused Gryffindor stopped half-way on. "Get on it the opposite way."

"The opposite way?" Harry parroted disbelievingly. She nodded her head and he looked down at his broom in bewilderment.

"Cho, you can't fly the other way." He explained slowly as he dismounted, thinking the joke had gone on too long. "The broom only goes one direction."

"Of course you can fly, just look over your shoulder." Cho's mouth twitched into a smile.

"..."

"Will that be a problem?" She asked kindly, taking in Harry's shocked expression.

"Flying backwards?" He answered in amazement, slowly realising she was being serious. Of course: if everything else wasn't enough, he'd now risk falling off a bloody broom. Still, as was wont to do when he entered into insane situations, an idea popped into his head. "No, no problem. But wouldn't it be more fun if I chose a handicap for you too? Say, getting your hands tied behind your back."

Cho hesitated before gave into spontaneity and decided to throw caution to the wind. "All right then, though are you sure you don't just want to see me in handcuffs?"

Harry laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, I even gave you a sample of what you can do back in my first year."

Her eyebrow arched. "Swallowing a snitch? Yes, that's exactly how I thought this date would end."

With his flush growing stronger by the second, Harry wondered what exactly he had gotten himself into. Not to mention how the bloody hell he was supposed to fly backwards. He frowned at another thought. "I don't suppose you know a spell for ropes?"

Cho picked up the handcuffs and straightened back up. "No need, just fasten these with my hands behind me. I wasn't joking about using them."

Deciding that rationality was highly overrated, Harry blushed but snapped them around Cho's wrists (after she'd already mounted her broom). He then replayed the last conversation in his head while picturing the ridiculousness that was going to shortly occur. The only good thing about this situation? His embarrassment had finally obscured the ever-there anger.

Thank Merlin no one else was here. At this thought he hurriedly peered around the stands before sighing in relief. No–no Colin, no camera, and no possible blackmail. No Weasleys, no Parkers, no Slytherins. Again: thank Merlin.

"Harry, as soon as you want to start playing-" Cho said, her voice cheerful with only a hint of anxiousness to be heard, "-oh, I have a spare snitch in my front pocket. Would you mind...?"

Hesitantly taking the snitch, he activated it and watched it fly for a few seconds before whizzing away in a blur. He then shifted to look at his Firebolt, a pit settling in his stomach.

"Right. Right then." Fighting against his natural reflex Harry took his broom, flipped it around, and mounted it in the opposite direction. "This is the craziest thing I've done."

"I highly doubt that. But look at the bright side," Cho said dryly, "at least you aren't in fluffy pink handcuffs. How is it even possible for me to catch the snitch?"

Harry shrugged, feeling very off-balance as he stared at the ground. "With your mouth, your feet, your-" his voice drifted off as he considered the possibilities. He fought against a renewed blush.

Cho noticed his reluctance and shook her head wirily. "We're both mental. Most people go to a café for their first date with a nice snog to finish. Ours will inevitably end with us in the hospital wing misdirecting Pomfrey's questions."

"Welcome to my life." Harry snorted, feeling more uncomfortable with the awkward positioning by the minute. Still, he'd probably prefer a date with barmy Quidditch antics than an awkward lunch at a tea house. At least here he could be himself and they could maybe have fun (or get themselves killed, but meh, he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing). "So, brooms up on three?"

Cho nodded, looking down at her Cleansweep with determination and a hint of uncertainty. "One, two-"

They both rushed into the sky. A very topsy-turvy rush, for Cho could only guide her broom's direction with her knees and Harry had twisted to peer above his shoulder and couldn't quite grasp how to accelerate backwards. Feeling lopsided and definitely off-balanced, he made a mad attempt to swirl around to try and find any centre of normalcy.

Mid-way through the turn his broom was deftly stopped by something, this happening so suddenly that he fell forward to recapture his grip. Looking up furiously at whoever had grabbed the handle his jaw dropped.

He could only stare in front of him as he heard Cho call out from behind. Slowly, a memory of a conversation from a few days ago entered his stupefied mind. Oh.

Oh Merlin, this couldn't end well.

* * *

Ginny Weasley lived her life off of rules. Which, in an odd way, made quite a bit of sense. For in the midst of the Burrow's chaos who wouldn't need to have a semblance of control over the ensuing madness? Naturally, as she grew older and her family became more set on driving her mad, her list of rules lengthened. Yet 'Never accept anything (edible or otherwise) from brothers' and 'Ignore all explosions except to run in the other direction', always topped the list.

Almost all of these curious tidbits (excluding 'Diaries are satanic, send _expulso_ at any you see') concerned her dear, innocent brothers. Yet arriving in Hogwarts she found that most of her rules could be broadened to include the wider student population.

Take her 'Loved ones think they know better than you. Let them be prats and sneak out to play Quidditch at midnight'. If not for that one she'd have broken it off with Michael ages ago. Her family's overprotectiveness was bad enough, but to be have her boyfriend question her Quidditch skills since she was too 'fragile'? Not only question, but insist that he was better without ever seeing her fly?

If that wasn't a challenge, Ginny didn't know what was. It was thus quite satisfying that she won the race to the Pitch. In fact, she couldn't even see Michael in the distance. She could thus focus on the spectacle in front of her which was far more interesting. Erm, distracting. Yeah. That was it.

In fact, this entire situation emphasised the one central rule which got the most milage these days: 'Boys will be idiots. Dodge the ensuing chaos'. From Jamie breaking the time turner, Al cursing Lily, to the stupid triplet idea which made McGonagall's lips practically disappear in anger, Ginny didn't think anyone could top it. Yet she'd forgotten about Harry Freaking Potter. The boy in question who just so happened to be staring at her like she'd announced she had an Hungarian Horntail tattooed on her chest.

She shifted on her Cleansweep–which had definitely seen better days–but forced any shock out of her voice. This was fairly difficult, for it wasn't every day that you came across Hogwarts' star seeker flying on the wrong end of his broom. What in Merlin's name... "Hi Harry."

"Erm, hi." He awkwardly adjusted his stance on the Firebolt. "What're you doing out here?"

"Waiting for Michael." Harry just continued staring. "The berk thought he could beat me in a race to the pitch. Now, why are you flying backward?"

"Erm..."

"And why is Cho Chang behind you in handcuffs?" Ginny asked, her amusement clear. "Didn't know you went for that."

"I don't!" Harry rapidly cried, accidentally jerking his broomstick in the process. "We wouldn't, I mean we aren't–"

"Weasley." Cho's crisp tone chipped through Harry's stammering. In comparison to his blush she didn't let on that anything was odd. "Your tryouts are later, come back then."

"There's plenty of room for all of us." Ginny said demurely, noticing in the corner of her eye that Michael had finally caught up.

"We were here first." Chang gritted out, annoyance rippling through her features as she came to rest next to Harry.

"Cho," his nervous sheepishness was back, "it's fine, Ginny's right–"

Cho pulled her broom around so as to face the Gryffindor seeker. "_She's_ right?"

"I just meant there's plenty of room." Harry cautiously explained. Cho seemed less than appeased.

"Hermione Granger wasn't enough, now her?" The Ravenclaw lowered her voice but Ginny was still easily able to hear. "Don't think I didn't notice the commotion at dinner. I wasn't keen on bringing it up but, honestly, shouting out your old girlfriends to the school!"

"Old girlfriends...?" Harry said, lost for a moment before he groaned in realisation. "It was just a dumb prank. You know how Fred and George are."

"Quite...the party...up here." Michael at last raced up, sparing a questioning glance at the other couple before frowning at Ginny. Sweat lined his brow as he took deep breaths of air. "Someone...didn't tell me...they could fly."

"I did." Ginny answered succinctly, a frown lining her lips. "I'm trying out for the team, what did you expect? It's not my fault you didn't believe me."

But Cho was having none of this tangent and continued muttering vehemently at Harry. "Prank or no, I didn't realise you'd 'gotten through' so much of Gryffindor House."

"None of them were my girlfriends!" Harry protested, his irritation beginning to glimmer to the surface.

Cho scoffed. "What is Granger then, your best friend?"

"Yes!"

"No 'love triangle' between you two and Victor Krum? Or Ron Weasley?"

Harry looked momentarily surprised before his anger rapidly rose. "You believed Skeeter, then."

"We should go." Michael blanched as both Harry and Cho turned (the former awkwardly) to glare at him. "This has nothing to do with us."

"Oh yes it does." Cho gritted out. "Little Weaselette over here is at the centre of it."

"No she isn't." Harry's exasperated sigh was almost lost under Ginny's and Michael's protests.

"Yes she is!" Cho heatedly argued, black hair flinging about. "If we're going to have a relationship you can't lie to me about your past girlfriends."

"Wait," Michael paled as he amateuredly manuvered his broom to face Ginny, "'past girlfriends'? You said there was no history between you two."

"There isn't!" Harry and Ginny yelled simultaneously, their nerves at last getting the better of them. Neither of their partners seemed convinced.

"You told me that Potter was just your brother's friend." Michael said with a mark of accusation. "Look me in the eyes and tell me that's how it really is."

"Yes, it..." Ginny trailed off.

Just her brother's friend? Well, no. He wasn't. He never had been.

A flash of the Chamber of Secrets rushed through Ginny's mind. Of confusion, relief (Tom's goneGoneGONE!), of a snake that could swallow the Burrow in one gulp and of Harry standing there, covered in blood, sweat and dirt. Of the knight in shining armour that she'd always wished for; but not like this. For she was never supposed to be the helpless damsel in distress, and the hero should never be tortured or close to death. In her daydreams there had been no place for lingering nightmares.

And he _wasn't_ just Ron's friend. Being cooped up in the Burrow all Summer meant that it'd gone from Harry not mentioning her elbow in the butter dish, to them running up a tree to hide from her brothers' prank and stealing a few biscuits before dinner (her scoffing at his choice of almond and treacle when triple chocolate was to be had). She was still shy, still hesitated to speak to the boy-who-lived for he was still the hero of her bedtime stories.

But she found that she _could_ talk to Harry, and discovered that he was even nicer than her old fairy tale wishes.

Michael was also nice. He didn't have a quirky smile, humility which hid a lion, eyes one could stare at for hours, or smell like broomstick polish, treacle tart and a pickering which reminded her of tasting rusted coins. But that was okay. Michael didn't shy away from touches and it wasn't a show of trust if he let someone hug him without flinching. But that was all right.

It was all fine. Just dandy. Or at least it had been fine until this year's Welcoming Feast. Of Jamie–with her eyes and the Potter messy hair–Al–who was his clone but had her smile–and Lily–her clone with his sheepish grin. Of an older Harry with wise but no longer tortured eyes, gazing at his wife with an unconditional love which Ginny wasn't sure she'd seen him express before.

She paused for a moment too long. The wind whistled between them as they hung in the air. Without knowing the details of her musings, Michael and Cho drew enough from Ginny's dazed expression and far-away thoughts to jump to entirely the wrong conclusion.

"Fine." Michael said stiffly, his still tone snapping his blushing girlfriend back to reality. "I'm not an idiot, I should have seen this before. But I always thought Potter saw you as a crazy stalker."

"You and I both." Cho muttered, staring down at her handcuffed hands with hurt in her eyes.

"I'm not–" Ginny began with angrily, feeling that this was all unfair and that they should let her explain. But she was rapidly cut off by an even colder voice.

"Don't call her that." Harry breathed out slowly, and though he looked ridiculous sitting the wrong way on his Firebolt it ceased to matter. As Ginny saw the others unconsciously edge away she made a note of how quickly her fellow Gryffindor could switch into his 'I-fight-dark-wizards-and-horrifying-beasts-every-other-weekend' mode.

"Wha–what did you say?" Michael's attempt at bravery failed with a single stammer.

"Don't insult her, either of you." He hissed, focusing his attention on Michael. "We've never been together but that doesn't matter. I've been talking to you for three minutes and I can already tell you're a piss-poor excuse for a boyfriend. Ginny deserves far better."

"Butt out Potter." Michael cautiously edged a bit forward. "What's it to you?"

"I look after my friends." Harry glared at him. "If that means throwing their partners off their brooms, then fine."

Michael instantly stopped moving. A flicker of fear appeared in his expression before conviction quickly swallowed it up. "Oh? Then which of your friends did Diggory insult?"

SLAP!

Only when Ginny spun about after bruising her boyfriend's face did she turn back to the other two. Cho was clumsily, angrily fighting against her handcuffs to reach her wand, but she barely noticed her.

For Harry already had his wand out and aimed straight at Michael. Shaking with suppressed power, Ginny only just noticed that his eyes were glinting red in the fading light. She didn't stop to think and wonder what was happening.

Acting on pure instinct she flew sideways fast enough to catch Harry's arms in her own. Keeping herself between the holly wand and Michael, she frantically tugged herself closer to the Gryffindor seeker.

"Harry." She whispered rapidly, fighting to wrench his wand away. She had no problem with Michael being hexed after what that prat said, but those eyes weren't Harry's. They weren't the colour of fresh pickled toad, and her mind couldn't help but be swarmed with memories of an enchanted diary and a bewitching boy. "He's a git but you can't curse him."

The eyes which weren't Harry's blinked at her in anger.

"He deserves it." His voice was barely a participle away from parseltongue. Ginny shivered despite herself.

"A fall from this height would kill him." She frantically tried to keep her voice calm. Harry-but-not-Harry humourlessly laughed beneath her.

"So?" His head quirked as though he was cracking his neck. "It'd be his own fault. Just another spare."

Ginny swore she felt the air go cold as the breath stilled inside her. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, horribly wrong, and the least of it was that his eyes were obscured with crimson mist.

"Listen to yourself." Ginny's voice cracked as she struggled to hold the stronger student back. "This isn't you! I heard your nightmares about the graveyard, I know you'd never call anyone a, a _spare_. You'd never curse anyone in mid-air! Damnit, you aren't like Tom!"

But the boy just smiled as he threw Ginny back enough so that his wand drew parallel to Michael's paralysed body.

"Ava–" Harry spoke without emotion, quiet enough that neither Ravenclaw could hear. Ginny watched as time ran out and there was nothing she could do. For everything had gone horrifically wrong and she was spinning towards him in a last desperate act of distraction. Getting in front of the wand, she grabbed onto Harry and did the only thing she could think of to stop him from saying any words.

Hmm. His lips were chapped and he didn't flinch, didn't pull away, and he tasted like pumpkin juice rather than treacle tart. His holly wand was pressing into her chest and the Firebolt's bristles were scratching her, but all that mattered was that Harry had swallowed the rest of the spell. No one was about to be murdered or sent to Azkaban.

But before she could comprehend anything more a pair of hands had roughly pulled her away, and it was only because of quick manuvering that she managed to stay on her broom. Her eyes flung open and, oblivious to Michael's or Cho's furious expressions, felt sheer relief. The crimson red was gone and Harry–just Harry, her Harry–was back.

"What are you playing at?" Michael said furiously into her ear, continuing to drag her back until she pulled away. "That maniac tries to attack me so you kiss him?"

"I don't have a wand, so I was making it so he _wouldn't_ attack you!" Ginny shouted right back, spinning to face the others as a flush crawled over her features. "However much you deserved it."

"We aren't blind." Cho said. Though there was anger in her voice the tears dripping down her cheeks and nose were more prominent. "You distracted him by _kissing him_. Any fool could make the connection."

"Potter, have fun with your little stalker." Michael growled, gazing from Harry to Ginny with clear hate. "Maybe you'll have better luck getting her to put out."

SLAM!

Both of Cho's still handcuffed fists made contact with Michael's nose. She spun for a second to regain her balance but she wasn't a champion seeker for nothing.

"Don't think I forgot your comment about Cedric." Cho said softly, gazing at her fellow Ravenclaw as he cursed, holding onto his bloodied nose. "Get to the ground before I also try to hex you."

Michael didn't need another warning. With a last, furious glare he dived to the bottom of the pitch. Cho looked from Harry to Ginny, paying the other boy no more attention.

"I was blind, wasn't I." She finally admitted after a pause. She glanced morosely off to the mountains. "I don't like what you two did but I should have seen it coming. I, I guess I was so confused after Cedric that I–damnit. I ignored the obvious."

"Cho–" Harry slowly began but was cut off by a teary glare.

"Don't say anything! I don't like being lied to." She spoke harshly before marginally softening. "But maybe looking for a rebound wasn't the best idea."

"Cho," Harry tried again, seeming completely like himself as he flew up to her and replaced his wand in his cloak, "I swear Ginny and I aren't together. We're just friends."

Cho gave a hiccouphy laugh before sadly shaking her head, the tears slowly dying. "See you on the pitch, Potter."

"Cho!" Harry yelled but the Asian beauty was already soaring to the ground. "Wonderful. Just brilliant."

Ginny hung in the air, her jaw slightly agape as her mind raced to process what had happened. She and Harry had kissed, Michael and Cho had dumped them and maybe–just maybe–her old crush wasn't as gone as she'd trained herself to believe.

But most importantly: something was terribly wrong with Harry. As Ginny silently watched him follow Cho's retreating figure before turning to meet her gaze, she had a funny feeling he didn't realise anything was off.

They stared at each other, both their brooms shifting slightly in the breeze. The sun steadily made its way towards the horizon. Ginny time and again tried to speak, but it was only when the faint noise of the other Gryffindors entering the pitch reached them that either student moved.

Harry finally gave her a sheepish smile. "Thanks Gin."

She was too far away to see whatever emotions must have been reflected in his eyes. By the time she was ready to give a reply he was already half-way to the ground.

Ginny sighed as she followed him. Her thoughts, instead of being on the upcoming Quidditch trials, could only focus on her rule that had been centre-most since second year: 'Do not fall in love with Harry J. Potter'.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for the OCCness. I just figured that, with the absence of reminders about Cedric, Cho would be quite a bit happier and more playful while on a date with her crush. Also, Harry and Ginny aren't together yet. With their baggage and latent issues, any relationship between them would have to survive a ridiculous amount of hurtles.

Quick question for y'all (sweet Merlin, I should stop rewatching AVPM). I've been trying to juggle lots of characters and subplots in this fic but I know some are falling through the cracks. I'd be incredibly grateful for you lovely readers to let me know what you're most interested in reading in the coming chapter(s):

- Family bonding (Lupin craziness, Parker insanity, godfather/godson bonding, the Golden Trio's awkward awesomeness with the Parker kids, future Weasleys freaking out; take your pick!)

- The Order getting let in on the secret (aka: Mad-Eye reaching new levels of paranoia)

- Marshmallowy, sticky sweet romantic fluff

- Angsty angst angst (horcruxes, hallows, 5thyr!Harry stuff)

- Voldemort, Voldemort, ohhh Voldy, Voldemort. Voldemort! Duh dee da da...

- Whatever else strikes your fancy: from the lovely Loony Lovegood, Dumbles, Rita Skeeter, Draco Malfoy, Sibyl Trelawney, to Ministry bumbles


	24. Beetles and Bullies

**A/N:** Sometimes a fandom totally takes over ones life. Like a Trekkie/LotR guy learning Klingon/Elvish, a Doctor Who fan watching every season straight, or a Twihard stalking residents of Forks, Washington in search of sunlight-induced sparkling.

Yeah. That's now me. I'm out of denial and blissfully at peace with my addiction. At peace, I say! At peace! From my summer spent making Harry Potter related crafts/writing/jewellery/cosplay costumes/replica wands, to buying tickets for the Leavesden Studio Tour, Leaky Con (hopefully), and a wrock concert featuring Harry and the Potters, I've realised I'm beyond all hope.

I'm not sure whether my also-Potter-obsessed friends will laugh hysterically or share their own fandom-addicted horror stories when they find out :P

**General Disclaimer:** Points above. _That's_ why I'm not Rowling. No way would she ever be this mental.

* * *

"Off the record, Minister!" Rita Skeeter cried as she grabbed her Quick-Quotes Quill and parchment. "Just a short–"

"Not now, dear." Delores Umbridge smiled condescendingly while adjusting her atrocious pink coat. "Cornelius and I were just about to have a meeting."

"Come now Fudge." Skeeter turned away from the despicable woman to the fidgeting short man in his trademark bowler hat. "The people need to know–"

"Of course they do," Umbridge ignored Skeeter's scowl, "but not now. You can interview the Minister about the lying, attention-seeking brat later."

As the reporter was rudely pushed from the room, she was fairly shocked at how strong the overweight Under Secretary could be. She barely managed to jerk the end of her quill out from the door before it slammed shut. A spark of magic prickled her skin as the locking charms came into place.

Skeeter glanced around the empty room (Who was that secretary–Weatherby? Weezy? Wazlib? Meh, who cared) before pressing her ear to the doorframe. She cursed: they'd put up an anti-eavesdropping spell as well. 'Drastic measures' would have to be taken.

Storing the writing utensils in her pocket, she peered around her once more before transforming. As she knew from previous experience, the gap on the floor was wide enough for an insect to fly through; the green beetle quickly determined that there was no imperturbable charm on the door. When would these politicians learn? Imbeciles, the lot of them. Though undeniably good for business.

Skeeter felt the eavesdropping spell disintegrate around her as she pushed past the boundary. Flying towards the underside of Fudge's desk she avoided a low-hanging strand of spiderweb. She kept an eye on Umbridge's pacing figure as the voices barked above her. She winced, wishing she'd remembered to apply the sound deafening charm before she'd transformed.

"–we both know he's gone senile, Delores." Fudge was saying impatiently, his voice booming around Skeeter. "So he managed to find a DADA teacher, it's just one setback. We'll find another way into Hogwarts."

"The problem _is_ the teacher." Umbridge spoke with a sickly smile. "I've checked the archives and there are no records for a Mister Henry Parker."

"So he immigrated."

"He has a British accent." She seemed to be ignorant of Fudge's increasingly annoyed expression. "Parker appeared out of nowhere and was far too friendly with Dumbledore. Those two are up to something and ought to be punished."

Fudge rubbed his eyes. "It smells like one of the old coot's plans, but what exactly are you getting at?"

Skeeter couldn't help but wince as Umbridge giggled. "That Dumbledore might be bringing in his little 'Order' to create an army."

"Really?" The Minister perked up, as did the unseen reporter. "This may be promising. How come none of our sources have come forward with this?"

"Double agents can be so tricky." Umbridge sighed with obviously false regret. "You never know who to trust."

"Perhaps." Fudge's frown deepened. He pressed a button on his desk. "Weasley? Send up Aurors Kingsley, Moody and Tonks." He released the button. "Delores, I assume you have proof?"

"Of course Cornelius." Umbridge rapidly assured him. "I've checked every foreign ministry that I could, which is why it's taken me some time to bring this to your attention. No one has heard of him or anyone matching his description; he's a ghost. I am convinced he's using a glamour and false name."

Fudge frowned as Skeeter took mental notes on this scoop. "I agree it's suspicious and Merlin knows I'd love to catch Dumbledore at something. But this is just a theory, not proof. Not enough for a public arrest."

"It could be." Umbridge pursued on. "All we need is 'Parker's' magical signature. It'd then be child's play to match him to his true identity!"

"That's easier said than done. We don't have any adults and sending in one of the Board would clue the old coot onto the fact that we're onto his game."

Umbridge gave a sickly smile. "There are ways around that, Minister."

Fudge scoffed. "What, have one of the students take a reading? That's far too advanced magic."

"No, but–" Umbridge's explanation was cut short from a knock and the entrance of the three aurors.

"Wotcher, Minister!" Tonks said happily before grunting as Mad-Eye elbowed her. She turned to the limping man angrily. "Have you gone mad? What was that for?"

Kingsley ignored his bickering colleagues to turn to the displeased politicians. "What can we do for you, sir, ma'am?"

Umbridge looked almost approvingly at the professional auror, but scoffed as Tonks tripped over air. "I see they've lowered the standards for our law enforcement."

"This certainly isn't a waste of our time." From Mad-Eye's scowl at the frumpy woman, it was clear that only he was allowed to insult his young apprentice. Or maybe he was irritated that his glass eye ball seemed to be stuck peering at the top of his head. "What is this meeting about? Did you manage to lose more dementors or was it an hungarian horntail this time?"

"All the dementors are under our control!" Fudge blustered as Umbridge turned red. "How dare you insinuate–"

"I'm sure what Alastor meant to ask was," Kingsley stepped in appeasingly, "what is this meeting for?"

Umbridge sniffed. "I'm not even sure what this–man–" she flinched as Mad-Eye's glass eye was released with a squelch and began roving its gaze around the room, "is doing here in the first place. Isn't he retired?"

"Mad-Eye's a consultant." Tonks' hair turned bright red. "Unlike _other people_ I could mention, his input is valuable!"

"Tonks, enough." Kingsley gave the younger auror a warning look. Mad-Eye humphed, but a proud glimmer appeared as he gave his apprentice an appreciative nod.

"You're right, that is enough." Fudge spoke huffily, trying to get back on topic. "The three of you were called in because of the Ministry's concerns at the recent events in Hogwarts."

He was met with three blank stares.

"Cornelius means 'Professor' Henry Parker, and his assistant." Umbridge growled. "We know that Dumbledore has told you all about him. Who is this man?"

"No idea." Tonks said quickly. Skeeter frowned; the woman denied that slightly too quickly and her hair was turning yellow as she flushed. The men seemed to have genuinely puzzled reactions. "What does he teach?"

"Defence Against the Dark Arts." Mad-Eye supplied. Two surprised and two indignant pairs of eyes turned to him.

"So you _do_ know who he is!" Fudge cried triumphantly. The ageing auror grunted in disgust.

"Of course I don't." Mad-Eye deftly ignored the incredulous stares. "But I'm not an idiot. The only open Hogwarts position as of last summer was DADA. Since _Madam_ Umbridge here was supposed to teach that, it's obviously either free or been filled by another."

Fudge looked as though he'd shallowed a canary. Yet Umbridge still stared at Mad-Eye predatorily. "A likely story. We all know Dumbledore tells you all of his secrets."

Tonks winced–but whether this was because of Umbridge's statement or the woman's high, sticky sweet voice Skeeter wasn't sure. Mad-Eye's emotion was easier to read: annoyance, annoyance, and sheer annoyance of having to listen to these people. Kingsley was the only even somewhat-amused person in the room.

"Minister," the high-ranking auror began, "I assure you that our first and foremost loyalty is to the Ministry. It is our _job_ to pretend to be affiliated with Dumbledore. But that's just it. It is an assignment."

Fudge's eyes narrowed. Still, he drew the same conclusion as Skeeter and decided that Kingsley was being truthful. His suspicious gaze turned to the man missing a few appendages. "Your assignment only began recently. Moody, didn't you teach at Hogwarts last year?"

Mad-Eye Moody grumbled something under his breath, his paranoid jerks becoming even more noticeable. Seeing that her comrade wasn't going to answer anytime soon, Tonks broke in. "Yes, he did. In a respect. What does that have to do with anything? Just what are you implying?"

"He clearly has Dumbledore's ear and is not loyal to Cornelius, you impetuous child!" Umbridge cried out, becoming unhinged. "Tell me what that senile oot is hiding or I'll have you thrown in Azkaban for treason!"

"What!" Tonks entire head turned fiery red as she stepped towards the suddenly nervous woman. "How _dare you_! He hasn't done anything! Why you, you–"

With the room on the verge of a rage-fuelled duel, Kingsley raised his hands placatingly. "Let's all take a deep breath. There's no need to attack each other, we're on the same team. Now, Minister, none of us know what Dumbledore is up to, or if he is up to something. Nor do we know who this 'Henry Parker' is."

Everyone slightly calmed down, though the fighting almost began again when Umbridge muttered, "A few drops of Veritaserum would let us be sure of that."

"There's no need for extreme measures." The Minister, recognising that two of his aurors' hands were flicking towards their wands, joined Kingsley in trying to make peace. "I'm certain everyone in this room is loyal. There won't be any Azkaban sentences anytime soon."

Umbridge seemed particularly disgruntled at this statement. Yet her reverence for Fudge wouldn't allow her to interrupt.

"You three were called in for another reason." Fudge paused for a moment, as though considering a plan. "Before you came, Delores informed me that this 'Henry Parker' is almost certainly an alias. We've checked international databases but this man is a ghost. I'm positive he's helping Dumbledore produce a private army of students."

Tonks choked on the air. Skeeter took a closer look at the young auror: was she, was she _laughing_? What on earth was so funny?

Not being as observant as the hidden investigative reporter, the Minister took no notice of this interruption. "It is our highest priority to find out who this wizard truly is. We also need more proof of a conspiracy because of circumstantial evidence. What is needed is to get someone inside Hogwarts, someone who would be overlooked and not considered a threat. Yes, yes, there are a few ways to go about this. Auror Tonks?"

"Yes sir?" She managed to overcome her coughing fit, though a tinge of a smile remained. Skeeter observed that Mad-Eye seemed to be the only other one to notice this, if his suspicious frown was any indication. Both of his eyes remained focused on the younger auror.

"Are you able to record magical signatures?" Fudge remained ignorant to the increasing tension.

Tonks exchanged a glance with her comrades, wincing as her gaze met Mad-Eye's piercing stare. "Yes, it's part of our basic training."

"You can also turn into anyone of any age, correct?"

"Erm, yes sir. Within reason." A look of realisation came over Tonks' features.

"Perfect." Fudge smiled, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "I think Hogwarts is long overdue for an exchange student!"

As the conversation wound down, Skeeter flew back over near the door as Umbridge gave a few more pale threats and Fudge informed Mad-Eye and Kingsley that they were to get as close to Dumbledore as they could.

Skeeter fluttered her wings, a smirk crossing the beetle's mouth. With all of the potential scandals, she was almost at a loss as to where she'd begin! Of course, that had never stopped her before. There was not enough meat on the story of the mysterious Henry Parker–still, Skeeter had much to work with until that filled out. Blackmail on Fudge was always nice to get, though this sort of information was best to shelf until needed. Tonks' behaviour was extremely suspicious and it was even better that the politicians didn't catch on. That alone had the potential to blow the entire thing wide open.

As the aurors opened the door and Skeeter flew out at their heels, she could hardly wait to get to her Quick-Quotes Quill. Never mind that silly Granger brat; she hadn't heard from her lately and this scoop was too perfect to miss. She'd be careful and not attack Potter directly, yet her next move was clear: Dumbledore would never know what hit him.

* * *

Hermione had expected a nice, calm conversation when Ginny bodily pulled her from the Common Room and up to the dorms, the brunette's bag and books abandoned by the fire. She guessed that the younger girl was excited about the Quidditch try-outs and was still on a high of wanting to guess who'd made the team. So when she was practically thrown into her room, she didn't even realise that anything was especially wrong until the redhead obsessively locked and warded the door.

"Um, Ginny?"

"_Shhh!_" Ginny eyed the entrance warily before sending out a last silencing charm.

"No one can hear us, and it can't be as complex as the situation between Ron and I." Hermione approached her warily. "Why–"

"_Sit._" Ginny growled pushing her onto the bed. "I have news. _Shhh._"

"Okay–"

"SHHH!"

"All right, okay." Hermione sat on the blankets. She'd been best friends with Harry for long enough to recognise the 'I've-done-something-incredibly-stupid-but-have-uncovered-a-horrible-secret' look in Ginny's eyes. Not to mention that the other girl seemed a moment away from either screaming or crying. "What's happened? Was it the try-outs?"

"Those were fine." The redhead sat as well and began knotting the blanket's frayed ends together. "Something happened before."

"What?"

"I–Merlin." Ginny took a few deep, thick breaths. The crying finally won out. "Harry and Cho were already flying when Michael and I arrived. My stupid git of an ex-boyfriend made a scene–"

"Ex?"

Ginny plowed ahead hurriedly, ignoring Hermione's question. "–and something happened and Harry and I kissed. Cho and Michael broke up with both of us. Harry didn't mention _any_ of this afterwards except for a bloody THANK YOU!"

The redhead was breathing heavily by the end, tears trickling down her cheeks as she bunched the much-abused blanket between her fists.

Hermione remained silent, digesting the rushed statement. Her first, odd thought, was that this was so Harry. Ugh, at least they had proof he'd _eventually_ learn something about girls. She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "When I said 'nothing could be more complicated', I didn't mean for you to take it as a challenge."

"Hmmph ahh runtilumph." Ginny groaned, her voice muffled by the pillows she'd thrown herself against. Her friend felt a headache growing.

"Let me get this straight." The brunette knew she'd regret this conversation. Yet she had to admit that this was making her feel so much better about her lack of relationship with Ron. She knew this was a horrible thing to think and would never ever dream of saying it aloud, but still. "You've broken up with Michael and Harry's broken up with Cho."

"Hmm mmm."

"You kissed Harry."

"Mmm."

"Harry didn't acknowledge this." Sweet Merlin, had those boys learned _nothing_?

"Uhh, maybe." Ginny finally resurfaced from the pillow, her eyes red and swollen. "But that's not the worst part."

Yes, Hermione definitely wished she wasn't having this talk. As much as she loved Ginny... "Does it have to do with the Parkers?"

The redhead snorted humourlessly. "I wish. I don't know what this is." She adjusted her seat on Lavender's bed, tucking her feet beneath her as she shifted towards Hermione. "This, this is going to sound mental..."

"I'm used to the impossible." She said as reassuringly as she could, fighting down the impulse to quote Lewis Carroll. "Try me."

"Have you–" the younger girl hesitated, biting her lip in thought, "–have you ever noticed anything strange about Harry?"

Hermione blinked. Blinked again and decided there must be something wrong with her ears. "I think I misheard you, because you couldn't have just asked me that."

"I didn't mean it like that!" Ginny growled, tugging a hand through her ravelled hair in frustration. "I meant, have you recently noticed something odd about him? Odder than usual?"

"You mean the trigger-happy mood swings?"

"More than that." Ginny sighed. "That's normal, anyone would be stressed in his situation."

"Why don't you tell me what you're talking about." But the redhead continued biting her lip. Hermione began to remember that girls could be as oblivious as boys. "I want to help but I don't know what's going on."

Ginny ducked her head, her hair creating a veil over her face. "You won't believe me."

"I've heard worse." Hermione said drily.

"Maybe." She said doubtfully, still hiding her features. "All right, fine. The Kiss only happened after Michael blamed Harry for Cedric Diggory's death. He was beyond furious, I could literally feel his magic."

"That is...odd," Hermione chose her words carefully, "but it's like what happened between Ron and Harry earlier. So he attacked Michael?"

"He tried." Ginny said in a soft tone which wasn't like her own. "He had his wand out. I stopped him by kissing him before a fight broke out in mid-air."

"Then there's no problem-"

"Hiseyeswerered." Ginny spoke in a single rushed breath. Hermione blinked once more.

"Wha–"

"Hetriedtousethekillingcurse." The younger girl finished rapidly, burying her head in her arms. "Oh god oh god, I don't know what to do! Something's really wrong! Who should I tell, what should I–"

"Ginny, calm down." Hermione said, a nervous hitch to her voice. "You need to calm down, please? We'll figure something out. But are you sure you aren't mistaken?"

Ginny threw a furious expression her way. "I know what I saw! How dare you imply–"

"I wasn't." Hermione backed off as she saw the infamous Weasley temper come to light. "All right, where is he now?"

"Up in his dorm, probably asleep."

"Did anyone else hear this?" Hermione fell into her questioning role.

"No."

"Cho, Michael..."

"No." Ginny repeated, twisting her hair into knots. "Definitely not. I was the only one close enough to hear what Harry said."

"Okay, good." Hermione felt a swoop of relief. "That's good. At least he won't be sent to Azkaban."

"Thank Merlin." Ginny muttered. Her hair was given no relief.

Hermione bit her lip, silently willing her mind to organise itself into some sense. She pushed the romantic insanity to the side and settled on the major issue. So Harry had gone off the deep end, he was being controlled, or something even darker was going on. "He couldn't have been imperiused."

"What?" Ginny looked up at her friend's murmur. "Why not?"

"Harry can throw off that curse." She settled her gaze on the enchanted mirror at the other side of the dorm room. "Someone might be controlling him another way. It's more likely than him using an Unforgivable out of his own free will."

"I don't know." Ginny–finally having to give up on knotting her hair as it had begun to resemble a bird's nest–fidgeted with her fingers. "He's been acting so strangely lately."

Hermione shook her head. "Harry's had a lot to deal with, but he would never cross some lines. Screaming? Yes. Hexing? Sure. Trying to kill a student? No, he'd never do that."

"I never said he would!" She protested indignantly.

"I know you didn't." The brunette sighed, gazing around her dorm for inspiration that refused to come. "So something else must be going on. Something darker, which isn't surprising. You said his eyes turned red? Also, the–older Parkers–keep looking at him oddly."

"They know what's going on?" Ginny asked, hope finally entering her voice.

"Probably." Hermione replied with less assurance. "We should still mention it to them. Am I the first person you've told?"

"Yes."

"Does Harry even know?"

Ginny hesitated. "...I don't think so. He acted too normally afterwards, as though nothing was wrong. Should I, should I tell him?"

Hermione considered it for a few moments, tugging at her blanket in thought. She knew her best friend wouldn't take this well at all. The very thought that he'd almost attacked another student would be enough for him to make some stupid decision like–oh, running away from Hogwarts or the like. On the other hand, if they just told the Parkers they'd know if there was anything he could do.

"I don't think so." The older girl replied slowly, uncertain of her own words. "Harry would just feel guilty. We could tell the Parkers and then play it by ear. But I, I don't think he has to know. It would only make him feel awful and more likely to do some nobly reckless move. He's already dealing with so much else, he doesn't need another dangerous worry."

"But if he could control it..." Ginny said, hating to agree with Hermione on this.

"We'll see what the Parkers say." Her friend answered, hopeful that the advice would be to tell Harry everything.

* * *

"Loony, have you misplaced your necklace?" Marietta Edgecombe smirked at the younger student, the three Ravenclaws standing alone in the hallway at dinnertime. "Such a shame. Did one of your invisible creatures hide it?"

Luna Lovegood remained silent, though she stared at her shoes with eyes which were most decidedly not dreamlike. A copy of the _Quibbler_ drooped from her hand.

"Was it the 'racksorts' again?" Lisa Turpin scowled, waving her wand slightly. "Or wait, maybe it's those things that live in kisses!"

"Mistletoe." Luna spoke quietly, still not looking at either of them.

"What was that Loony?"

"Mistletoe. Nargles live in," her voice faltered, "live in mistletoe."

The other two Ravenclaws exchanged a look before returning to their prey. Marietta stepped forward to grab the magazine from the younger girl, whose fingers clasped around it a moment too late.

"'Nargles', she says." Lisa scoffed, leaning over her friend's shoulder as she roughly flicked through the pages. "Completely out of her mind."

"Not as bad as this trash though." Marietta closed the _Quibbler_ and held it with the tips of her fingers, as though she could catch something from it. "Have you heard? Loony's dad is in charge of writing this rubbish."

Luna finally looked up, the luminescent quality returning to her eyes. She held her lips tight in uncharacteristic anger. "It is _not_ rubbish–"

"Ahhh," Lisa said in a baby voice, "the little Loony is defending her daddy. How cute. Absolutely precious."

"Delusional, more like." Marietta pulled her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the magazine. "Let's give her a taste of reality. _Incend_–"

"_Accio Quibbler!_"

The Ravenclaws spun towards the voice, two of them outwardly shocked as one of the approaching boys caught the flying object.

"Luna, are you all right?" The redhead kept his wand out as his gaze flickered between the girls.

"Just fine." The blonde replied happily and with a touch of relief as the magazine was handed back to her. "Thank you Jamie! Did the Snorkacks tell you where to find me?"

"You could say that." Harry came up a step behind. Marietta and Lisa chose to ignore the boys' angry expressions focused their way.

"Of course the crazies are friends." Marietta stage whispered to her friend, blatantly oblivious to the heightening warning signs on both of the newcomers' faces. "Potter's perfect for Loony–she wouldn't even know she's being lied to."

Harry was peeved at the comment, but Jamie turned from angry to downright furious. "Oi! What do you mean by that?"

"That Potter's an attention-seeking liar." Marietta sniffed, clearly thinking she could scream for a teacher if this got out of hand. "He cheated on Cho–"

"I/He did not!"

"–and is _still_ insisting that You Know Who's returned." Lisa took up the point with a condescending tone. "Give it up Potter, everyone knows you've gone 'round the bend."

"Why you–" Jamie stepped forward hostly, "how dare you say that! Especially when you're nothing more than bullies."

Marietta merely sniffed again, deeming it beneath her to answer.

"Stop picking on Luna." Harry said, his wand still tucked away for the moment. "I don't care what you say about me, but she's never done anything to you."

"She's a disgrace to Ravenclaw." Lisa said slowly, trying to force the two moronic Gryffindors to understand. "Always blabbering on about imaginary magic and things–gah. If she stuck to facts and the truth there wouldn't be a problem! But Loony insists on–"

"Don't call her that." Jamie said with a twinge in his voice as a spark of crimson flickered from his wand. "We don't have to listen to this. Come on Luna, let's get out of here. Did they take anything else from you?"

"Oh no." Luna said idly, rolling her _Quibbler_ up. "A few things are missing but it could have been anyone."

"What?" Harry demanded, glaring at the offending Ravenclaws. But this faltered when Luna grabbed both his and Jamie's elbows and pulled them back down the floor.

"Thank you." Luna spoke as soon as they were around the corner.

"They still have your stuff!" Harry looked back angrily.

She only shook her head, cascading her blonde hair around the wand held securely behind her ear. "It won't do any good to ask them."

"I wasn't going to 'ask'." Jamie gritted out.

"Or to confront them." Luna returned to quickly gliding down the hall, making it so the boys had no choice but to race to keep up. "Let's just go and search for Snorkacks."

But that quest was swiftly brought to a halt when, rushing around a corner, the three of them plowed into heavy mass. All four were sent sprawling to the floor.

* * *

Severus Snape was not amused. One could hardly blame him: he was even more surrounded by dunderheads than usual.

He swept up from the dungeons, rope billowing behind him flawlessly. Though his sneer didn't twitch he felt a small sense of satisfaction as a group of fourth years raced away in fright.

His bad mood was entirely Potter's blasted fault, he knew it. Whether it was the older or the younger he wasn't sure, but it must be _someone_ in that blasted family. First Black had taken leave of whatever brain cells he had and decided to race down Hogwarts' corridors without a care. Needless to say, being bulldozed by a mangy mutt into a row of armour had not been thrilling for Snape. To add injury to misery, he'd had to spend lunch fidgeting during Dumbledore's twinkly lecture that mixing colour-changing spells and an animagus was 'inappropriate' and 'childish'.

_Then_ the Headmaster had been 'temporarily blind' when a pink afro-ed and tentacle-armed Black stuck his tongue out at him and blew a raspberry. But of course Snape was the one who was childish. Of course. It didn't help that Dumbledore's dratted pet started laughing. Honestly, how could a phoenix even snigger? It'd be like a snake learning to blink!

Blasted dunderheads.

Yet that was only the start. Snape would grudgingly admit that it maybe wasn't Potter's fault Black had been in the castle. While it was likely the mutt had been visiting the brat, he was perfectly happy theorising that Grimmauld Place had simply driven the idiot mad. However, he could blame Potter (the elder and younger, blast them both) for his miscreants.

To be fair, Snape didn't completely despise Lily or Albus with every molecule of his being. Though their brother (_James Sirius_? Potter must be even more of an imbecile than he'd thought) was a different story. That boy was as infuriating as his grandfather, had only a slight semblance of his grandmother's sense, and ruined that small virtue by being more recklessly curious than his dratted father. After realising the time traveller was even more prone to making cauldrons go _Ka-Boom_ than Longbottom, it became clear that the brat was trying to drag him to an early grave.

So really, he should not have been surprised to be plowed over by the James Potter clones. And, oh joy, they had to drag the distracted Ravenclaw girl with them.

Of course, none of these thoughts directly registered with Snape as he was unceremoniously knocked to the ground. There was no horror at having gotten Gryffindor on his robes, no screams of expelling the dunderheads if they did not get off of him immediately, not even any points docked or shrieks of "Detention Potter! _Forever!_" Indeed, he was momentarily too shocked to do anything more than blink above him as the students slowly realised who they were using as a pillow.

As Snape was met with two horrified stares (and one dreamy one, but he'd overlook that), he mused that perhaps he should stay silent more often if it could produce this kind of terror. But for now he had Gryffindors on him, so this was no time for testing his intimidation methods.

"_Potter! Parker! Lovegood!_" Snape barked. "_500 points from both your Houses if you do not get off me INSTANTLY!_"

The Gryffindors practically apparated up and against the wall. Lovegood was slightly slower but the brats dragged her away to safety. He smirked as he stood: never mind the silent treatment, shouting always got the best results.

"So." The Potions Professor said slowly, brushing off his robes as he glared at the cowering students. "Why _exactly_ are you in such a–rush?"

"We're off to see Snorkacks." The blonde Ravenclaw replied lightly, not looking scared in the least. She didn't notice when her two companions groaned.

"Snor-kacks?" Snape could feel his Lovegood-induced headache coming along. Merlin knew that the girl's father was difficult enough to talk to without going insane. Of course his daughter would be even more incomprehensible.

"Invisible creatures which–" Parker began to explain before cutting himself off at Snape's glare.

"We can't have that now, can we." The Professor replied snidely. "Trying to find dangerous beasts? Detention for that and for disrespecting your betters."

"What?" Lovegood actually seemed annoyed, an emotion which looked inherently wrong on her. "They aren't danger–hmmph!"

Both boys had clamped their hands over her mouth.

"Sorry sir for, erm," Potter replied, for while he was clearly irritated his focus was on stopping Lovegood from making their punishment worst, "running into you. When is the detention?"

"You'll be crushing snake fangs in the dungeon tonight." Snape ignored their noises of protest and swept away, his robe billowing impressively behind him. If the Potions Professor limped slightly (damn Gryffindors and their lack of basic coordination), no one was brave enough to mention it.

* * *

_Ginny_ stormed into the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, her black hair swinging about her in a fury. The only thing that kept there from being a stampede of terrified students was the earliness of the morning. Still, most of the pupils present were all-but ducking for cover as she swept past. Any comment about her behaviour resembling Snape's was only said under hushed breath.

Teddy barely looked up from his cereal as the irate woman plopped down next to him. "Morning Jen. What's got your knickers in a twist?"

She sent him a scowl. "Hilarious. I'm not in the mood."

"Uh huh." Teddy ignored the obviously blaring warning signs. He didn't notice the three Gryffindors approaching them. "If anything, _I'm_ the one who should be in a mood. Remember who forced me to meet my parents?"

"That's nothing." _Ginny_ didn't bat an eye. "With what my husband has–"

BANG!

"Your _parents_?!"

The adults spun around as Jamie limped back to his feet, clutching his bruised side from the Staff Table. He merely gaped at his godbrother. "Parents. Your _parents_? Damnit, why do I keep running into things?"

Ginny and Hermione looked at the boy in confusion. The former seemed particularly concerned. "What's wrong?"

Teddy rubbed his eyes. "My parents."

"Your _parents_?" Jamie repeated incredulously.

"My mum and dad, yeah." The older boy said drily, clearly wishing the subject to be dropped. "They came for a visit the other day."

The redhead boy's mouth gaped open, his slight wound forgotten. "Your _parents_?"

"With all the other shocking occurrences, you're speechless about this?" _Ginny_ said, still in an awful mood. "They came with your _father_'s godfather."

"Dad's _godfath–_" the young boy's face took on a look of reverence for his idol.

"Yes, Jamie!" _Ginny_ finally had it and sent her son a narrowed glare, making it crystal clear that the subject was dropped. "Now, what did you three need?"

"We want to talk to Professor Parker/dad." The three Gryffindors said in unison. Teddy snorted before wiping away his spilled orange juice.

_Ginny_ twitched. "He's–out on errands. Stupid prat." She murmured the last words quietly.

Jamie, disappointed, walked back to his table–that is, after being once again thwarted on asking about the Lupins. But the girls rebounded.

"Can we ask you about something privately?" Hermione said hopefully.

"Sure." _Ginny_ swept a few pieces of toast into a napkin. "I need something to get my mind off of my noble git of a husband."

"Err..." the girls exchanged a look. Professor Parker groaned while Teddy–though he'd never admit it–positively giggled.

"It's about Harry, isn't it." He sent a bemused look at the annoyed woman.

"Maybe?" The younger Ginny said, nervously fingering the _Evening Prophet_ in her hands. Teddy peered at it as a headline caught his eye. He failed to hold back another giggle.

"Teddy?" _Ginny_ curiously followed her godson's gaze before choking on her water. "Seriously?"

"Oh Merlin," Teddy said happily, grabbing onto the _Prophet_, "and it's by Rita Skeeter. This is just too good!"

Both of the adults gazed at the headline: **'MAYHEM AT HOGWARTS: DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY OF STUDENTS!'**

"Teddy, stop laughing." _Ginny_ said even while her amusement shone through. "This isn't funny."

"It's the DA!" Teddy chortled. "Of course it's hilarious."

"This–" Hermione hesitated as the two professors' attention returned to her, "–isn't actually what we wanted to ask you about."

"We wanted to make sure you'd seen the article." Ginny continued, exchanging another concerned glance with her friend, a move which rapidly sobered the adults up. "But we need to talk to you about something else. We think–_I know_ that something is terribly wrong."

* * *

**A/N:** _Ginny_'s annoyance will be revealed in the next chapter, but until then I have to say: I love writing heroic!Potters. But who cares about grand adventures? It says more about their personalities that they'd help Luna against bullies. I was so sad this was never addressed in the books, it would have made Harry seem so much more human.

I realised that I hadn't had anything about Luna Lovegood or Rita Skeeter and naturally had to address this lapse immediately. I've gotten tons of feedback that people want to see the Lupin reunion and that will _definitely_ be written, but unfortunately I have writer's block on it. I'll likely post the scene in a previous chapter and let you know in a future A/N where it is. Cool? Sweet. Also, Moody's utter paranoia will be up very soon.

Reviews = love. And not like amorentia!love. More like, 'I'm-on-a-_felix_-_felicis_-high-and-am-going-to-break-up-numerous-couples-to-be-with-my-chest-monster's-love' love. Totes y'all. Totes.


	25. Hostage and Horcruxes

**A/N:** So Rowling just sent a _crucio_ to my childhood. "The Casual Vacancy" is beyond brilliant but, bloody hell, she destroyed my heart AND childhood AND innocence AND naivety in one fell swoop! I'm, I'm still getting over the aftershocks. It's not even that Hogwarts is gone–it's that she's basically killed off EVERY BLASTED FREAKING FAIRY TALE! I'm having an existential crisis because SHE BROKE MY CHILDHOOD, RIPPED IT TO SHREDS, TURNED IT INTO A BLOODY HORCRUX AND FED IT TO SPARKLING VAMPIRES! Then she explod-ed it. *continues sobbing*

So! Aside from my soon-to-be nervous breakdown, I want to say thank you to my wonderful beta spellmugwump97 for her awesomeness. Also, I really am sorry to H/G shippers who might be set off by my characterisations. The problem is that I can only picture this couple if Ginny is a bit scary beyond all belief and uses this frightening demeanour to protect her family. Picture a mother bear crossed with a sabre toothed tiger. See, I can't stand fics which make Ginny Potter into a blasted fangirl–any wife of Harry Freaking Potter would have to be strong as hell, and my problem with H/G is that you don't really see her like that in the books.

Anywho! Unlike the messy hodgepodge of the last chapter this one should make some semblance of sense. It even revolves around a mini-story. Bow before my mighty writing prowess. Bow, I tell thee: _bow!_ Because I don't need to use horrible swears EVERY BLOODY LINE. Christ Rowling; you're brilliant, wonderful and all, but wtf?

**General Disclaimer:** Oh, you don't want to kneel before me? Don't you know I'm Rowling's doppelgänger but am, incidentally, unable to make any profit from fanfics? Wait, you _do_ know this and continue to defy my orders? _Crucio_, dear readers: _Crucio!_

And your little dog too.

* * *

_Harry_ watched as a small spider slowly crept towards him. He supposed he should be thankful that he didn't have Ron's fear of the things; there was more than enough to worry about at the moment, and what a time this would be to be crippled by a phobia. He was already spelled motionless, no need for his emotions to betray him as well (he steadily ignored the pulsing wave from the magical artefact which was apparently still in his pocket). So thank Merlin for small mercies. _Very_ small mercies, but at this point he'd take what he could get.

He tried to crane his neck but it–and the rest of him–remained petrified, still as stone. It had been like this ever since he'd woken up in a blind panic, his mind awhirl of auror reflexes of observation, scattered memories, and a sinking feeling of dismay. The auror also had an unsettling realisation that this creeping feeling of 'waking-up-in-confusion-in-a-likely-hostile-situation-where-family's-possibly-involved-and-oh-Merlin-where's-my-bloody-wand!' was happening far too often. Merlin, maybe he really should change careers. Or ship his kids off to a land far, far away which had never heard of magic.

Yet after this initial period of fright, _Harry_ had taken a few deep breaths, refocused, and tried to make order of everything. He was in a room, wandless, petrified, tied to a chair and–he tried to scream–silenced. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark he peered around at the cobwebs, barren dress, and shut door which practically wrecked of locking charms. There wasn't much to see but none of it looked familiar. Nor was he in enough of a panic to use any of the Hallows magic. Still, if things got any worse...

He had then shook his head, giving himself a headache but also forcing the cloudiness back (Had he been stunned? Hit with a bloody bludger?) so he could focus on the situation. He evaluated what he knew so far: the initial inspection of his surroundings had been useless, he only had the clothes on his back, and he still had to remember how he had gotten wherever 'here' was and who his capturers were.

_Harry_ let his thoughts drift to the memories of the past day. Of the adventures, the danger, the...no, it had started before all of that...

* * *

_Early That Same Morning_:

_Harry_ played with the long, magically dark hair with his fingers. His wife shuffled slightly beside him and softly batted away his hand.

"Don't knot my hair." _Ginny_'s voice was submerged with sleep, the syllables slurring together.

"It's already tangled." He smiled at her slight frown. "I didn't do it."

"Oh, it was the nargles?" She yawned, a bit of energy returning to her features. As her dimples appeared they became almost irresistible to kiss.

"Not my fault you toss and turn." _Harry_ ducked from the flown pillow. He came back up once the coast was clear, fully awake from the start. "Isn't it too early to attack me? And I could have said–"

"If you tell me I need to comb, a thrown pillow will be the least of your worries." _Ginny_ sat up and stretched, her expression one of amusement mixed with sleepiness, her hair scattered every which way. He was tempted to comment on how their hairstyles were now identical, but knew she wouldn't appreciate the sentiment. Plus, her entire image was rather blurred–he reached out for his glasses to correct this.

"Ah." He blinked up at her. "Now you're properly beautiful." She sighed and adjusted his crooked glasses, he caught her hand as she pulled back. "Thanks love. Did I say beautiful? I meant gorgeous. Ravishing. And by all of that, I mean that we still have some time before breakfast."

She gave him a look of pure bemusement. "Are you trying to tell me something, Mr. Potter?"

_Harry_ leaned towards her, returning to playing with her tousled hair as he grinned. "Just that we're both here and have nothing to do for a while. So Mrs. Potter, what do you think?"

"That you're. Trying. To get on. My good side." She kissed his lips lightly between every few words. "Is there some bad news?"

_Harry_ returned the sentiment, pulling them both back down to the blankets. "Like I need a reason to do this."

* * *

The following hour saw the couple walking down the empty hallways towards the Great Hall in the early morn. _Harry_, having practically invented the 'tousled' look, seemed to have gone straight from rolling out of bed to a magazine cover. His friends would never let him forget the time this had actually happened thanks to a Percy/George prank, a well-placed portkey, his annoyed wife, and a fourth consecutive Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award.

In contrast to her husband's messiness, _Ginny_'s hair was now sleek and straight ("No magic needed." She would always proclaim while her partner snorted); the only apparent make-up was a touch of lipstick. There was also concealer on a small spot on her neck, but no one need know about that. What happens before breakfast stays in the bedroom–apart from one or two Patronus charms, but who didn't do that?

"About earlier," _Harry_ started hesitantly, his smile weakening, "about me getting on your good side?"

_Ginny_'s grin instantly collapsed into a frown. "I'm not going to like where this is going."

"Probably not." He admitted while making his hair even messier. "I won't be able to make classes today."

"Why not?" _Ginny_ waited a beat until...

"I'vegottocollectthehorcruxesbe foreDumbledorewisesup." _Harry_ muttered incredibly fast. His wife blinked before groaning.

"Merlin, no!" She pivoted to face him with a stormy expression. "Over my dead body."

"That's what I'm trying to avoid." _Harry_ said drily, not bothering to ask how she'd understood him. One picked up a few tricks after almost twenty years of marriage. Not to mention that she'd grown up with six brothers, all of whom had a tendency to speak with their mouths full.

"Don't give me that." _Ginny_'s anger glimmered to the surface. "The diadem was one thing and I'm happy you're going behind the Old Coot's back, but I can protect myself. I'm coming with you."

"I'm not going behind his–" he stopped and shook his head, recognising a lost cause, "–forget that. I know you can protect yourself but I can also do this on my own. It's a small errand. Not dangerous at all, really."

"You call breaking into Grin–MMPH!" She glared as her husband interrupted her words with a kiss. A few passing, early rising students stared but continued onto the Entrance Hall.

"I'm never going to live that down." _Harry_ said warily as he pulled away from his peeved wife. "No, I'm not going after the cup or Nagini. Since we already have the diadem I figured I'd collect the locket and ring. It won't be dangerous and I'll likely only be gone for the morning." _Ginny_ narrowed her eyes. "I just need to go to the Gaunt house and visit my godfather. It's not that strenuous."

Her glare intensified.

"Err, I love you? I want to keep you safe?" He struggled to talk down her anger. For while he had learned some things in their many happy years of matrimony, he was still fairly clueless about women. Well, at least she wasn't crying. That was something, right?

"Let me get this straight." _Ginny_ practically breathed fire. The slowly increasing crowd of students made a large detour around her. "You see no problem with going into a place which, for all we know, could be riddled with curses and Death Eaters. All with no back-up?"

"I'll be disillusioned." This failed to change her expression. "Add that to my wand, my cloak, and my magic?"

"And your ego?"

"Funny." He rolled his eyes. "You know I was talking about the Hallows."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"I'm in control of it this time, it isn't as strong–" _Harry_ again trailed off at her harsh gaze, "–look. How about I check in with you every hour?"

"Every half hour and keep your mirror permanently on."

"We can't risk students listening in." He shot a look around for good measure. A few hopeful eavesdroppers scurried away. "Every half hour with the mirror off."

_Ginny_ was still upset. Yet from the set of her jaw and her softening expression he knew she was giving in. Her jumping into his arms for a hug was also a rather blatant give away.

"Be safe." She murmured into his ear, tightening her hold on him. "Call me if there's any problems. Say hello to Sirius for me. Don't touch that blasted stone and, I swear by Merlin's left pinkie, if you use the Hallows' magic for anything less than a apocalyptic emergency I'll steal Dumbledore's lemon drops and Minerva's ginger snaps and blame you."

He paused in kissing her as his eyes widened in panic. "You wouldn't–they'd throw me to the Giant Squid–"

"Try me." She gave him a last peck on the lips. Her smirk promised violence in the near future. "Love you. If you do anything stupid and get killed, I'm resurrecting you before murdering you myself."

"Love you too." He cautiously called out while backing away, wisely deciding to pick up breakfast elsewhere. As he made a break for the door, he heard his wife yell fairly homicidal warnings at his back, her voice pitched with concern and fury.

A smile wormed its way to his lips as he ran outside: Christ, he loved that woman.

* * *

_Harry_ felt the far-too-familiar experience of having a raw egg dropped onto the top of his head. As he lowered his wand he looked down as his appearance disappeared. Camouflaged, he kept his wand out and, with a slight _pop_, disapparated from just outside Hogwarts' gates.

Reappearing in the woods he peered around. He was slightly disappointed to note that there was no hovel in his eyesight, nor was there anything that screamed 'Terribly Evil Object This Way! Right Next To Non-Possessed Scones For Only A Sickle!' Maybe he should have had more of a plan. After all, he'd never actually been to the Gaunt home before and it was pretty ridiculous to think that it'd be easy to find. Maybe it was incredibly good that _Hermione_ wouldn't find out about any of this.

He probably should have actually stopped for food before heading out on a 'quest' but, meh, he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. So with that the auror rechecked his disillusionment before, shrugging, started off into the thicker woods. Delaying would help nothing, he wasn't really that hungry anyway and, besides, what other option did he have? The hovel was sure to be right within the overgrown woods.

This optimistic thought lasted _Harry_ about an hour.

The second hour was spent cursing the evil vines who decided to play target practice with his feet.

For the fourth hour all was silent except for the grumbling of his stomach.

By the sixth hour he was ready to call it quits. Still, damn his 'hero complex'–that useless thing was determined to make his life as delightful as a picnic by a lake of throbbing inferi.

It was thus that, after a morning and afternoon of walking aimlessly around and returning to cursing the forest that never ended, _Harry_ batted away yet another vine intent on strangling him. The plants had moved on from his torn feet ages ago. He grunted out a few severing charms before leaning against a tree to catch his breath. Merlin, had Voldemort cursed everything in this area? The terrifying rabbit with red eyes (that attack alone might have scared him off of caves for life), and the haunting cries of "Ni! NI!" had been bad enough. But possessed plants?

Sometimes he seriously hated magic.

Or wizards' blasted, macabre creativity.

The only silver lining was that the forest's homicidal tendencies seemed to be getting stronger. While this spelled ill in the short term–he ducked as a witch with a, with a _lopsided carrot nose_ whizzed pass him, cackling something about returning him to his newt form–it also indicated he was nearing the dratted house.

He was tired, hungry, had small cuts littering his skin, was coated with splatted dirt and mud, and had long since begun having flashbacks to the long-since-passed camping trip from hell. Noticing his hands had become visible (That would at least explain how the barmy witch had seen him), he reapplied the disillusionment charm an even dozen times over. Sending a quick stunning spell to his left (A knight in black armour with two missing limbs? Really? What was Voldemort smoking), he decided that enough was enough. Though it was funny to think of Dumbledore getting through these obstacles, the humour of the situation had worn off long ago. What he needed was a quick, easy, common sense solution. Something creative, something logical that Hermione would think of–

Ah. Right.

"_Wingardium leviosa_." _Harry_ murmured quietly, pointing at his own feet. And before he knew it he was above the treetops and able to survey his surroundings. Shrugging away his annoyance for not thinking of this earlier, he peered around at the endless woods.

Tree, tree, jumping homicidal rabbit, tree, tree, little town far off back where he'd come from, tree, tree, roof–got it. _Harry_ silently thanked Merlin, Morgana, and every other wizarding god. Making a point of the direction, he lowered himself to the ground and raced off towards the distant house. The sounds of the forest swirled around him with increasing intensity with every passing step, and as he reached the clearing housing the Gaunt's abode the noise rose to a pitchy crescendo.

_Harry_ gritted his teeth as he raced forward, trying to ignore the screams of Ni!, the banshee shrieks, the crickets' wittering, and the footsteps to his left. Oh wait. He stopped mid-step and turned towards the last noise. After a quick check that the charm was still on him he cast a whispered spell: "_Homenum revelio_."

A single dot of light appeared in front of _Harry_'s vision. He shook his head to clear it, a relieved sigh escaping him. So there was one other person here. It could always be another insane enchantment of a carrot-accesorised Halloween witch or a knight lacking arms, but it was best to be careful. He moved forward slowly and, within a few minutes, had reached the front door without incident.

A wave of his wand cemented his suspicion of various locking and alarm charms. Glancing around for another option, _Harry_ smirked as he spotted something in the air. After another levitation, the auror was over the roof. Concentrating to keep both spells going at once, he once again checked for the existence of curses. The chimney was heavily warded; the roof was not.

_Harry_ stopped the levitation charm and descended onto the tin, kneeling to examine it. A few diagnosis spells later and, unbelievably, it seemed like the roof was actually clear of charms. He arched an eyebrow in disbelief. Voldemort wasn't this stupid and he certainly wasn't this lucky. What was going on?

He sat back to think, relatively secure that here at least there weren't any alarms. His thoughts raced: all right, so Voldemort would expect anybody to find the bad security on the roof. Most people might get overconfident at that point and just drop into the room, ignoring any potential alarms in the rafters or on the floor. The key was to do this slowly.

Lying down, he used a severing charm to cut out a hole from the tin. Before it could fall into the room he pulled it up and out. Another diagnosis spell followed, revealing an alarm immediately under the roof. It took a few tries but he was able to dismantle it.

His relief was followed by annoyance as he spent the next period methodically counter-cursing dozens of alarms, numerous dismembering curses, and, thrown in haphazardly, a handful of spells which made the Unforgiveables seem like slight slaps on the wrists.

Wiping away droplets of sweat, _Harry_ half-expected a boulder to roll out at him once he finally touched the ground. But at long last, all the spells seemed to be gone, no terrifying creatures were in sight, and the scariest thing before–err, beneath–him was a darkened room.

With a few more cautious spells, he levitated himself down. After another spell to search for concealed items, he was pulling an ornately tarnished box out from under a few particularly loose floorboards. A pulse of magic hit him, making it so that he almost dropped the levitation and only just managed to get the box safely to the ground. Another flick and the lid hurtled open–and a very familiar magic coursed through his own.

The ring lay glimmering right in front of him, pillowed within swatches of black velvet. He felt a spike of panic at the sight. No, not again, this couldn't be real, it was only part of his nightmares. He just had to keep from touching the ring and he'd be fine–

–but his arm kept stretching forward. His hand flipped open the lid of its own accord and, as _Harry_ struggled to keep his traitorous limbs from the magic, his fingers closed around the ring.

His breathing grew shallow and uneven. The utterly familiar yet foreign magic prickled under his skin, singing to him with a temptation so sweet that he could hardly hear his own thoughts.

_'Come to me.'_ The soft, wispy breath circled around his head. Clutched at him, clung to every fibre of his being.

_'No, no...'_ But it was everywhere, with no escape in sight.

_'Power. All the power you have ever wanted.'_ The voice sighed and sung, enchanting with every syllable. _'To master death. To ensure that you will never be left alone again.'_

_'No, I can't...' _A doubt streaming from the back of his mind to the front: that there was no choice, and he had always known how this would end. He had just been lucky last time.

_'Your old family, retrieved.'_ The stone promised with ease as _Harry_ gritted his teeth in pain and fading determination, inching towards the rock. _'Your new family, forever untouched. Put me on. So simple. They will always remain safe, evading death. Could you forgive yourself for letting this go? Ginny, Teddy, Jamie, Al, Lily...'_

_'Shut UP!'_ He internally screamed. Forget about the improbabilities of fighting against Death: if the blasted Hallows insisted on him being the 'Master' of them, then he'd show them what that bloody well meant. Yet the magic still beat and his rebellious hand was unclenching and his fingers were drawing closer, closer, closer to the sparking stone–

"_Avada kedavra!_"

_Harry_ jerked around as the spell missed him by a good foot. He instantly sprang up, threw the blasted ring into his pocket (and maybe secretly thankful for the interruption; possibly fatal attack or no), and peered around for the assailant. There was no one there. Merely cobwebs and rotten furniture within a house which was only being kept together by magic.

"_Accio invisibility cloak._" _Harry_ whispered. No cloth appeared.

"_Crucio! Crucio!_" The man's voice became more desperate with every passing moment.

Both spells came nowhere close to hitting _Harry_; they instead played to his advantage. Rapidly aiming for the place where the last spell had rung out, the auror quickly gathered his magic before murmuring, "_Finite incantatem_."

The spell collided and threw the other man back into the wall. _Harry_ renewed his attack but, while his opponent's disillusionment charm was fading, his thudding footsteps were rapidly approaching the door.

"_Stupefy_! _Locomotor_! _Petri_–" _Harry_ paused as he recognised the Death Eater at last, "–_Crucio!_ Damn it, you traitor. _Crucio!_"

But Wormtail was back in the forest. All of the spells and curses flung at him rammed into walls or tree trunks. _Harry_ raced after him furiously until, when they were just beyond the clearing, the former Marauder apparated with a loud _crack._

_Harry_ angrily threw a reductor curse at a tree trunk. The flying splinters didn't make him feel any better. Blame and guilt crept into his thoughts: if he hadn't been distracted by the ring, if he'd been a touch faster or more accurate with his spells...

Yet there was nothing he could do. Sighing he glanced down at his pocket. He supposed that this had been a success: he had the ring, he hadn't been killed, and his adrenaline was even now controlling the stone's hold on him.

So what if Wormtail had escaped and that the Hallows were growing ever stronger? He could handle it. They were another horcrux down and the next one should be easy to collect. The worst thing that could happen at Grimmauld Place would be a scuffle with Kreacher over the locket and chatting with Sirius while trying to hold it together.

_Harry_ hesitated. Between the echoing shouts of NI! or spending more time with his godfather, he'd choose the murderous forest any day. Shame he didn't have a choice in the matter.

* * *

The still-disillusioned auror appeared in the middle of London with a _pop_. As _Harry_ had no trouble seeing Number 12 Grimmauld Place, either the charm recognised him as his younger self or Dumbledore had keyed him into the wards. But that didn't matter at the moment. The main issue was that he was about to enter the Order of the Phoenix headquarters, a place where most of the guests were prone to shooting first and asking questions later.

_Harry_ had told Sirius after their reunion that he had to retrieve something from the townhouse, but that only meant that there'd be one less wand aimed at him. So caution was the word of the day.

Double-checking that he was indeed still invisible, he approached the house and slowly opened the door. Since he wasn't immediately attacked he slipped inside and darted past the closed curtains hiding Sirius' mum.

Not hearing any noises _Harry_ breathed a sigh of relief. Sirius must be in some corner of the house or with Buckbeak, so it'd be simple to avoid him. All he had to deal with was Kreacher. Which was easier said than done, but still. A mad house-elf was almost welcome in this situation.

Cautiously heading to where he knew Kreacher's little burrow of a room was, he tried to reconcile what he knew of the future with the present reality. He had been doing this almost continually since first arriving in this time, for while it had been unnerving to address 'dead' people calmly, it was almost more challenging to act a different way towards people who now seemed so young. To see George carrying on pranks freewheeling and with a painless smile on his face, to spot Ron chatting about the Chudley Cannons with no idea of the horrors of war, to catch Hermione glancing at her crush with a wistful sigh.

That wasn't even mentioning the absolute insanity of seeing Ginny still struggling to separate her identity from her brothers while shyly watching his younger self (which the older Harry had made an effort _not_ to do once he'd queasily noticed how often the horcrux flickered to the surface). It was even stranger, though understandable, that they all tried to avoid him or, if they had to talk, treated him with the formality of a pupil to a professor. _Ginny_ and he had laughed about the craziness of the situation, but they were both disappointed at not finding the complete 'family reunion' that they hadn't dared to hope for.

Still, _Harry_ guessed that none of this reconciliation between peoples' older and younger selves would compare to Kreacher's transformation. Before the elf had passed away he'd been a mixture of the kids' best friend and the crazy uncle who snuck them sweets before dinner and after bedtime. Lily and Al had especially had the elderly elf wrapped around their little fingers, and it had actually been this that had clued their parents' onto the cunning Slytherin-ness of their delightful children.

Kreacher had been family. _Harry_ had no desire to see his friend when his mind was still warped around hate, but he knew that there was a chance that he could set the transition in order. All he had to do was play his cards right, find the right words, and _silencio_ Sirius when he'd later inevitably try to wreck everything.

_Harry_ crouched down beside the wall. He got rid of his disillusionment charm and put a notice-me-not spell over the area instead. As he heard a slight scurry of movement within the small room he knocked and called out. "Kreacher? Are you in there? I was wondering if you'd like to talk about Master Regulus."

The noises stopped. After a slight clamouring the elf's head popped out, his expression a mixture of distrust and–_Harry_ hoped but wasn't positive it was there–the slightest bit of hope. "Who are you?" The elf rudely spat.

"Henry Parker." He smiled. "I'm a professor at Hogwarts."

Any hope that might have been on Kreacher's face disappeared with a sneer. "One of _them_. That group of filth and dirty little mudbloods! Trooping around my mistress' manor and stealing her things–"

"I'm not part of the Order." _Harry_ neatly cut him off, while warily looking around to make sure the shrieks hadn't attracted company. "I'm not a muggleborn or a squib. I'm no longer particularly fond of Dumbledore, and I have absolutely no intention of stealing any property belonging to this Noble and Most Ancient family. I just want to talk about Regulus Black."

Kreacher's sneer lightened but didn't disappear. "You want information? Information to be-smudge his name! Poor, poor Master Regulus! Such a good Master, nothing like _him_."

"I know he was a good, a good Master." _Harry_ bit his lip in order not to react to this slight on Sirius. After all, he'd been preparing himself for worst. "He was also a good man, I'm sorry I never met him. I heard about what he did in the cave; I know he told you to escape with the locket."

The sneer finally disapparated as the elf's expression transformed into one of guilt and anxiousness, his voice wracked with sobs. "He did, he did! Bad Kreacher should not have left poor Master! But he ordered me to! No no no...and all for the locket. Master told Kreacher to destroy it, and Kreacher tried! Oh, Kreacher tried! But nothing worked and Master was gone. Then the Bad Master and his awful, filthy friends came, and it wasn't just the Mistress and Kreacher."

"Then the, 'bad Master'," _Harry_ choked out the words, "took Regulus' locket from you?"

"YES!" The elf waled, pressing his long ears to his face. "But Kreacher stole it back, I did. For I try to be good elf and follow Master Regulus' orders. But it won't break! Fire, explosions, cuttings, dragons, poundings; nothing worked. Bad Kreacher, _bad Kreacher!_"

Explosions and dragons? _Harry_ shook his head, knowing that he was better off not knowing. "No Kreacher, you are a good elf. A very good elf. You've been trying your hardest to follow Regulus' last wishes. But you need some help, help which I could give."

The elf looked at him as his sobs subsided, his suspicion still prominent. "Didn't even know Master. Why should Kreacher trust you?"

"Because I want the locket to be destroyed as well."

"Just want to steal Master Regulus' locket!" Kreacher cried angrily, his gaze furious. "Like bad Master. Taking all Mistress' things away, desecrating the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

"It's not like that at all." _Harry_ tried to will his creeping headache to go away. "I don't want to steal it. I'll even give the remains back once it's destroyed–"

"NO!" Kreacher flung his arms wide, protecting his room and its hidden treasure with a sweep of magic.

"Damn it." He rubbed his eyes, knowing that everything up until now had gone far too easily–killer rabbit, vines, traitor and all. "I can give you another locket–"

"NO!"

"–or not." _Harry_ sighed, reevaluating his options. Apparently the last time around Kreacher had either been feeling unusually generous, was sorry for his role in Sirius' death, or had actually been trading the real locket for Regulus Black's note. The auror had no intention of trooping back into that inferi-filled cave, so a true, err, fake locket was out of the question. He could always transfigure a 'fake' fake, but didn't want to do that to the elf. There was one clear option but it was something he'd been putting off. "What if I destroyed the locket here? It would never leave your sight and you could have the remnants of it when I was through."

Kreacher still seemed uncertain, before nodding hesitantly. "Never leave Kreacher?"

"No, it won't." _Harry_ said firmly as he straightened back up. "I'll be back soon to destroy it."

Now that the wizard was leaving the elf almost seemed anxious to see him go. "No! Destroy it now!"

"I–can't." _Harry_ said regretfully. "I know it matters a great deal to you, but it can only be destroyed in a few ways. There is a spell but I've never done it since it's such dark magic. So I'll need a certain item to do the job. Once I collect the object I'll be back, I promise."

Kreacher scowled in distrust. He scurried back into his room without another word, his displeasure at _Harry_ blaringly obvious. But the wizard at least took comfort in that the elf had listened to him and that they had a deal. Taking down the notice-me-not spell and replacing his disillusionment, he rushed from the house before he met an Order member. As he disapparated back to Hogwarts' gates and approached the school he contemplated his next move. First of all, he'd have to get the blasted ring to Dumbledore. Wait, that was a terrible idea, the Headmaster would be supremely tempted to put it on. Even once any compulsion charm on it was taken off (and he couldn't help but doubt this was the case), it was still too risky.

_Harry_ took down his disillusionment charm as he entered the Entrance Hall, dodging about the students as they raced to class. All right then, he couldn't give it to the old man. Maybe _Ginny_ could keep it safe? Still, either way, he should go to the Headmaster's office to inform him of the changing situation.

As _Harry_ stepped from moving staircase staircase he wondered about how he–_they_, corrected his mental voice which sounded amazingly like his wife–should proceed. _Ginny_ and he had begun work on the magic to get their family back home but it would still be months before they were done with the advanced project. So for all intents and purposes, the horcruxes and war was their problem.

Luckily, destroying the soul pieces would be easy. He didn't much fancy going back into the Chamber of Secrets for basilisk fangs, but the Godric Gryffindor sword (embedded with basilisk venom) hanging in the Headmaster's office would do the job. That part was simple.

What wasn't so simply was how they were going to get the horcruxes out of the cup in Gringotts, Voldemort's snake familiar, and his younger self's scar. That wasn't even mentioning how the darkest wizard of the age could be defeated by a schoolboy who _wasn't_ the 'Master of Death' or of the Elder Wand!

_Harry_ tiredly rubbed his eyes as he gave the password ('Chocolate frogs', how original) to the gargoyle and stepped onto the spiralling staircase. Maybe he was thinking and worrying too far ahead. After all, he'd always been better at doing things on the spur of the moment. Plans? Who needs them!

So he should focus on the short term. Tell Jamie about the Hallows and teach his younger self occlumency. They should also determine who else in the Order to tell about their secret and how much about the future should be revealed: drawing the line between changing things to help the war and skirting around particular deaths.

_Harry_ hesitated as he stepped off of the moving steps to knock on Dumbledore's door. It was already ajar and there were voices shouting from within. He moved in closer to listen:

_"–senile! Death Eaters come traipsing into Hogwarts and–"_ the time traveller paled slightly as he recognised the gravelly voice.

_"They aren't Death Eaters!"_ _Harry_ groaned as he heard his godfather. But at least this explained why he hadn't been at Grimmauld Place. _"They're telling the truth. Don't you dare do what I know you're–MMPHH!"_

Sirius' last words were muffled by something. Though it was only when the door burst open and _Harry_ was hit with a red light did he remember that Mad-Eye Moody's accursed magical eye could see through objects.

His last thought before losing consciousness was that Moody looked far too manically gleeful to be back in the business of 'catching Death Eaters'.

* * *

Ah.

Right.

_Harry_ reopened his eyes and glanced back around the barren room, fully remembering why he was tied to a chair and feeling like he'd been hit by a bludger. That spider was still crawling towards him: how slow was it?

But far more importantly; Sirius and Dumbledore weren't able to stop Moody's paranoia from reaching its logical, albeit extreme, end. Merlin. He tried to shake his head but this only accomplished making his chest ache even more.

Okay, damn it, so this situation was bad. But at least he hadn't been captured by the Death Eater at the Gaunt's. Moody's insanity much be better than that? Maybe. He supposed that as long as it didn't come to actual torture this couldn't be too bad. Sure, he was tied up and in an unknown and most likely unplottable location with potentially no reinforcements on their way, but Sirius and Dumbledore both knew what had happened and at least it was he being interrogated and not his family. Not even Merlin or the Headmaster's twinkly stare would be able to help Moody if the paranoid git had also kidnapped _Ginny_ or the kids.

_Harry_ couldn't help but groan in pain, though it was silent through the spell. That stunner had been far more brutal than usual. Figures. He wouldn't be surprised if Moody had meant to do that, or if he'd 'accidentally' let him topple down the flight of stairs in his unconscious state. Yep, he wouldn't be surprised at all. Though Sirius would have likely made Mad-Eye lose a few more of his remaining limbs if that had happened.

So there was nothing _Harry_ could do but wait. He was tied up, petrified, wandless, and had no desire to call up the Hallows' magic. The only weapon he had was the ring he could sense was still in his pocket. But lord only knew how dangerous that thing was. He wouldn't even wish it on a Death Eater, let alone an 'extremely-cautious-though-nefarious' wizened auror. Anyway, an interrogation had been inevitable from the moment the time turner slipped from Jamie's hands. The anticipation of it was likely worst then the questions themselves would be, especially since Dumbledore was already on his side. After all, how terrifying could Mad-Eye truly be?

The time traveller didn't have much longer to wait before finding out. For within minutes the room's door opened with the creak of unlocking spells. With a few short clomps of his wooden leg, Mad-Eye Moody entered and limped towards his captive. If _Harry_ had ever been foolish enough to question the old auror's strength because of missing limbs, one look at his captor cleared up all doubts on that count.

The maniacally bloodthirsty grin on Moody's face was terrifying, yet had nothing on the calmly nonchalant way he shook a small vial of clear potion in front of his incarcerated kidnappee.

* * *

"Approach me, Wormtail. You have news?" The light tone of Voldemort's words was not reflected in his stormy demeanour.

"I, I do. My Lord." Pettigrew took a quivering bow as he stepped before the Dark Lord. The other hooded Death Eaters hung back in a circle within the dimly lit chamber. While this had once been the Malfoy family's grand ballroom, the little grandiose which remained was stripped in darkness and swept away to the edges and unseen corners. Candles adorned the ceiling, mirroring the picturesque effect of Hogwarts' Great Hall. Yet while both sets of lights were magically scattered in the air, these were wifty and merely elongated the nightmarish shadows and the shrieks caused by dark magic. Empty bodies were piled at the edges of the flickering light, their faces indistinguishable from one too many curses. Excepting Bellatrix Lestrange, even the Death Eaters gave these corpses as wide a berth as possible. Muggle as they had been, their anguishing pain still somehow stained the magic about them.

Lord Voldemort's eyes narrowed at his shivering servant. "I can only assume that it is the reason that you've seen fit to cut your shift short. Or would you merely like the punishment?"

"NO!" Wormtail quivered. "No, my Lord, my Lord I beg of you..."

"Did you not understand your assignment?" The Dark Lord said in a hushed scowl. The magic in the room seemed to curl in anticipation. "I asked you to guard something of imminent importance. My confidence was clearly misplaced. One simple order, do you enjoy defying me? Fine then, enjoy. _Crucio!_"

More screams were added to the grisly atmosphere; the pain was positively soaked up into the candles and penetrating darkness. If one watched closely, two of the hooded servants winced as they felt the newest stain on their familial magic. Wormtail convulsed on the pristine floor as though he was a marionette who'd had all of its strings cut.

Another wave of a yew wand and the curse was lifted. Voldemort ignored the spineless animagus' pants of gratefulness. "You fool, I only stopped because your information, at the moment, could be enough to spare your life. _Why did you leave your post?_"

"There was a, a man, my Lord." Wormtail shrunk back as much as he physically could as the Dark Lord swept forward, a look of quiet fury and violence erupting on his features. "He, he managed to, to get past, past the defences on the house."

"What?" Voldemort flicked his wand to levitate a yelping Wormtail up into the air. "You dare to challenge my prowess?"

"No! NO!" Pettigrew wildly cried out, shaking his head vehemently. "NEVER!"

"_Who was the man?_" The dark wizard gripped his wand tighter, making Pettigrew scream with pain as he clutched onto his neck, his legs jerking sporadically beneath him.

"I don't know!" Wormtail wailed, tears of pain trailing down his face. "He was invisible, I couldn't–I tried to stop him–"

"_To stop him?_" Voldemort interrupted furiously, his anger spiralling into the magic around him. The other Death Eaters nervously inched away from him and the choking Wormtail. "Tell me my ring is still in that godforsaken hovel. TELL ME!"

"I, I can't." The servant's voice broke, knowing full well he was signing his own death warrant. Voldemort's jaw tightened, his wand waved, and the next moment he was crashing through the other man's paltry mental defences:

_–a forest of horrors, of unbidden shrieks–_

Wormtail screamed away as his memories were crudely blasted apart. Voldemort searched and searched:

_–an alarm sounding in the house, hushing inside to see the chest in the floor open, the box lying in wait. Footsteps in the dust. Spells flung in fright and, a whimper in front of him! The intruder was still here! But no, now he was blasting back. A quick glance at the ceiling and the hole in the roof–but in his distraction a spell hit and his disillusionment charm was falling to pieces. His opponent was too strong, too quick, he had to run. There was a scream behind him as he made it to the door, and traitor traitor traitor...–_

The legilimency was deftly lifted. Wormtail's relief was short-lived for with another single, frighteningly calm flick of Voldemort's wand, the groaning animagus was dropped to the ground.

"You have failed me for the last time." The Dark Lord looked at the quivering mass with a disgusted scowl. "_Crucio._"

Shrieks of pain were his only answer. This continued on for endless minutes as the scream became an endless, whimpering choke. Yet finally, when it appeared that Voldemort would at last be merciful, he paused before delivering the final blow. His gaze turned evaluating as he cracked his neck to the side.

"But perhaps–" the Dark Lord's voice was soft and strangely melodious as he lifted the curse "–perhaps, even a worthless slug like yourself might still prove to be useful."

"_Thank you._" Wormtail defied the physical pain and managed to pant out, his chest rising in uneven bursts as his limbs twitched. "My lord, _my lord_, thank–thank you." He jerked forward to kiss his master's feet and was abruptly kicked away. The Dark Lord kneeled, evening his nervous servant with a penetrating stare.

"Do not thank me yet." Something akin to a smile stretched revoltingly. The watching Death Eaters flinched, unsure of why the dark magic in the corners had begun to dance.

For while Wormtail had seen his master redefine acts of cruelty and monstrous brutality, he had never before seen him this devoid of humanity or remorse. If the animagus felt a prickle of petrifying fear scurry up his spine, he never managed to utter a sound.

* * *

**A/N:** Canon never shows the defences around the horcrux ring. So there _could_ have been a forest labyrinth, the Rabbit of Caerbannog, and the Knights who say Ni, Peng and Neee-Wom! The Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch would have made the Final Battle waaay easier. Just saying.

I love writing Voldy scenes: villains and anti-heroes are filled with awesome. But something I adore even more than angst? Reviews! Or review horcruxes! Ohhh, there's an idea. Imagine if horcruxes _didn't_ have to be tangible objects. Like, if they could be an idea (Equivalent to the taboo on Voldy's name), or in this case, a few pixels lost in the endless bounds of the internet. A muggle concoction which can't really be destroyed unless electricity were to go down with it. Which would inevitably end in WWIII or an apocalyptic mutually assured destruction. Or you know, both and a zombie takeover.

Merlin, this is almost as bad as a past discussion on what would happen if a cake (Or a peanut in a marshmallow *continues sobbing about her destroyed childhood*) was a horcrux and then eaten. Would the soul dissolve? Would it possess the host? Would it be attached to the pastry goodness and 'expelled' with it? Will my friends and I ever stop applying horrifically grotesque logic and terrifying questions to HP canon? Who knows!

What should you take from all that? Review my story so the earth will implode and we can eat evil cake on Pigfarts (Which looks a lot like Pagford. OHMYGEETHEWEREHIDINGRUMBLERO ARINTHECAVE). Which is on Mars! BWAHAHAH.

NI!


	26. Moody and Mortality

**A/N:** HOLY MERLIN'S RED VINES. I managed to _accio _a golden ticket! I'm going to the Lennoxlove Book Festival J.K. Rowling live-stream+book signing! My life is now complete. Harry Potter on felix felicis has got nothing on me! I'm going to meet my hero! I can thank her for my childhood! I can tell her she _crucio_ed said childhood with "Casual Vacancy"! I can finally ask her what hocus pocus does! EEEEOMGOMGSQUEE! *does a wrackspurt dance of joy*

On the actual story's front, I can absolutely picture a stressed _Ginny_ being the DADA Professor from hell. Lockhart? Moody? Umbridge? Pshaw, their abilities to scar students would have nothing on her. And most importantly, thank you so much spellmugwump97 for betaing this chapter!

**General Disclaimer:** If I was Rowling Moody wouldn't have passed away so early and anti-climatically. I'm thrilled he got in his lovely sarcasm, but he died on a bloody broom with no shown death scene! No. Just no. Even blowing off his buttocks or having his revolving eye get stuck in a fight would have been better and would, at least, have had wonderful dramatic irony.

* * *

"–which is why it's simply ridiculous that there are only three 'Unforgivable' curses." _Ginny_ finished her rant, her sweeping gaze over Teddy and the awestruck students silently dared them to disagree. "The C_onfundus_ Charm and the like are only the start of the problem! Of all the stupid, outrageous–"

"She's gone over the deep end." Ron whispered to a pale Harry as Hermione nodded beside them, all wide eyed. Two desks away, Parvati Patil was clutching her quill tightly, looking as though she was about to burst into tears. After the demonstration of how an enlarging charm could dissect a spider, no one could blame her. Half the class (including an ashen-faced Ron) had been close to fleeing the room.

"–Mr. Weasley!" Said student jerked up at the teacher's bark. "You have a question?"

"No, I er–"

"You disagree that other spells can be as harmful as so-called 'Unforgivables'?" _Ginny_ smirked, her bad mood from yesterday having only grown exponentially. "So it would be perfectly fine for me to draw my wand and wipe all your memories? That would be 'forgivable'?"

"What!" Ron stared, amazed at his now officially insane 'older' sister. "NO, I–"

"Or if I dosed you with veritaserum?"

"No!"

"Spiked your drink with a love potion that'd make you snog Romilda Vane?"

"...who?" Ron inched away as best he could from a peeved Hermione, all while keeping one eye on the deranged time traveller.

"Decapitate you with a severing charm?" The Professor continued on sweetly as Harry dropped his quill in shock and Seamus made a choking noise.

"..."

"Levitated you off a cliff so that–"

"All right Jenny, I think that's enough for today." Teddy cut in to spare the stunned class. "No need to scare them. They get it: spells are dangerous."

_Ginny_ sent her godson a glare. "I'm worried and in a bad mood, so fine me. Besides, this is important for them to learn."

Teddy eyed her warily. "...just no levitating anyone off the Astronomy Tower."

"No promises." _Ginny_ snapped her fingers. Seamus fell off his seat as Parvati burst into another round of tears, Lavender trying but failing to console her. "Okay, aside from realising the stupidity of the name 'Unforgivables' and knowing that basically anything can kill, maim, or seriously injure you–what is the most important lesson to learn in Defence?"

"THE GRIM!" Lavender shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at the door. It was Dean's turn to topple onto Seamus in a start.

_Ginny_ blinked. Everyone else jumped at the scream. "That's–correct, Miss Brown. I wouldn't have said 'Constant Vigilance' quite like that but it did get the point across well. Five points to Gryffindor."

"Jen?" Teddy gazed at the open doorway. "That's not what she meant."

"Hmm?" _Ginny_ finally turned around. At the sight behind her she looked at once relieved and frightened. "Oh, that's just Snuffles. Our–our pet dog. But look at the time! Class is dismissed. Read chapter five for next week and please start working on your essays sometime before the eleventh hour. Off you go, shoo."

The kids–having noticed there were twenty minutes left until the end of the lesson time–stayed seated in confusion, their stares alternating between their teachers to the enormous dog walking towards the front desk.

_Ginny_ narrowed her eyes. "Or does anyone want a demonstration of how one simple spell can incapacitate a crowd of Death Eaters and/or disobedient students?"

The next minute saw a frantic flurry of flying parchments, slamming books, and cracking quills as a massive exodus took place. As the desperately departing pupils shut the door behind them with a resounding _bang_, only four young Gryffindors were left in the room.

_Ginny_ sighed at them, her bad mood giving way to anticipation. "Of course you lot are curious. I'm sorry Neville, but you have to leave as well."

"What?" Neville protested, his disbelief at the unorthodox lesson spiralling into bewilderment at the entire situation. "But I already know your secret and–"

"I know, Neville." _Ginny_ said with sincere regret. "This is something different and it's not my secret to reveal." The huge black dog whined but otherwise stayed silent as he watched the proceedings.

Neville looked around for help but was only met with sympathetic glances. He clenched his jaw and grabbed his cloak. "Fine. Fine, I guess I'm not trustworthy enough. _Big_ surprise there."

"Don't be thick–" Ron began tactlessly, and though Hermione elbowed him to shut up the other boy was already closing the door behind him.

"_Muffliato_." Teddy waved his wand over the room.

"That worked well." _Ginny_ sighed once more, pulling at her hair in worry. "Sirius, what the bloody hell is going on? You had better have more news than last night's awful, 'Moody took Harry somewhere but we're on it, bye!' explanation. If you don't, I'm turning you into a poodle."

Sirius shuffled away from _Ginny_ before transforming. "Hi Harry! Wonderful to see you, we should catch up–"

"Poodle." _Ginny_ snapped. Sirius winced.

"How about we don't curse the messenger."

"What's going on?" Harry questioned tightly, all of the Golden Trio equally confused. "What's this about Moody?"

"He might have," Sirius scratched the back of his neck, "captured your older self. It's okay though, we really are on the situation."

_Ginny_ crossed her arms in an oddly threatening pose. "Do you know where my husband is?"

"Not exactly."

"Who's looking for him?"

"Everyone who knows of the situation. Me, Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks, er..."

"Are you in contact with Moody?" _Ginny_ charged on.

"Not that I know of."

"Do you know what interrogation methods the old codger will use?"

"...truth serum?"

_Ginny_ clasped a hand to her growing headache, a groan escaping her. "I'm not even sure which of them I most want to kill."

"_Harry_ will probably take care of Moody." Teddy said tiredly. "So–"

"–that leaves my lovely husband and/or Sirius to me."

Sirius looked at the time travellers disconcertingly, drawing his wand and backing away a few steps farther. "And by 'Sirius' you mean, 'I seriously can't believe how handsome that–'"

"Don't make me hex you." _Ginny_ looked at her wand longingly. "Oh time travel, why do you give me headaches?"

"Welcome to my life." Teddy sighed before addressing Sirius. "Look, at least Dumbledore's blocked Moody from the castle, right? So there's no way he can get to the kids?"

"They're safe." Sirius nodded before his frown deepened. "Now, how do we go about rescuing _Harry_? Do you have any future thingy-me-bobs which can help?"

"He'll find us sooner or later." _Ginny_ and Teddy exchanged long-suffering looks. Everyone else was scandalised at their response.

"What?" Hermione broke her silence. "You can't just leave him there!"

"You really have gone insane." Ron blustered as he turned bright red. "That's my best mate you're talking about! Damn it, _we'll_ go and find him if we have to."

"Hermione, Ron, calm down." Teddy said beseechingly while the younger Harry slightly flushed at his friends' defence of his older self. "Of course we aren't going to abandon him. We just meant that he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself and that, er–"

"–if anything goes wrong we might be lucky and find a bit of Moody's finger somewhere." _Ginny_ said drily. "Merlin, I need a drink."

"She's joking." Teddy said, trying to calm everyone's–particularly Harry's–petrified expressions.

"I'm not." _Ginny_ unclenched her tensed fingers from her wand. "_Harry_ checked in with me to say he'd found both the objects." She ignored the confused stares. "Which means that, when he was captured, he had all three Hallows in his possession."

"Hallows?" Sirius gave a start, as did Ron. "As in the Deathly Hallows–"

"–wait, the Master of Death?" Ron stared at his fidgeting friend in amazement. "Blimey, of _course_ you'd find them."

"Find what?" Hermione asked at the same time as Harry's, "Master of Death?"

"They don't know about 'The Tales of Beedle of Bard'." _Ginny_ explained, rubbing her growing headache. "All you have to know is that a number of years back Harry was under the–_influence_–of some extremely powerful magic. The resulting situation made Voldemort look tame."

Teddy and the rest jerked around, pale and disbelieving. "It was that bad?"

"Worst." _Ginny_ replied simply, her expression sagging under shadows of the past. "And now my husband might or might not have that magic again. We'll be lucky if London isn't in ruins by the morning."

"Can we get back to the 'my-godson-is-Master-of-Death' thing? Wait," Sirius' voice chilled as his eyes widened, "the cloak. _The_ cloak?"

"The cloak." _Ginny_ reluctantly nodded.

Sirius thumped, stunned, to the ground. "The cloak..."

"_What_ cloak?" Harry rose from his seat. But his anger was distracted by a suddenly gibbering Ron who pointed at his friend's sack.

"Bloody hell, the _cloak_!" Ron yelled out.

"WHAT CLOAK?" Harry and Hermione exclaimed as one.

"Your dad's invisibility cloak." Sirius replied, shakingly running a hand through his hair. "Merlin, that's lasted for generations. Why haven't I wondered about it before?"

Seeing that two thirds of the Golden Trio were ready to start throwing hexes if they didn't get answers, Teddy stepped up. "Guys, the Deathly Hallows are part of an ancient wizarding legend. Almost all pure- and half-blood children are familiar with it from a fairy tale book called 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'."

"Mum read those stories to us all the time." Ron reminisced. "I loved Babbity Rabbity..."

Hermione held back a giggle at the name. "Babble what? Muggles tell tales like Snow White or Rumplestilskin."

"Rumple-whosits?" Ron said in confusion. "What is that, a breed of Gnome?"

"Anyway," Teddy interrupted before an argument could break out, "the story 'The Tale of the Three Brothers' tells all about the Hallows."

Hermione perked up, a smile finally appearing. "Can we hear it?"

Teddy too grinned at a sudden memory. "_Ginny_, could you tell it?"

"Me?" Said witch harrumphed in mock annoyance. "After all you kids insisted that _Harry_ was the better storyteller?"

Teddy shrugged in answer at the younger Harry's stare. "Let's just say story time was always–memorable. But come on mum, you're excellent at this."

_Ginny_ blinked at her godson, happy but surprised he'd called her that. Her earlier fears and worries washed away as she beamed at him. "All right then, I guess we have a few minutes before the next lesson begins. Once upon a time, three brothers travelled together down a winding, deserted road at twilight–"

"Mum always said 'midnight', _Ginny_, I thought you'd of remembered that–" Ron interrupted before meeting Hermione's stern gaze. "Er, but twilight's fine. Even better. Not as spooky but–"

"–which was when the brothers came across a wide, deep river." _Ginny_ continued on, thinking it'd be best for her sibling to provide a distraction for Hermione's wrath.

* * *

"Oh for Merlin's left sock." _Harry_ grumbled. "For the last bloody time ... Dark marks–Cannot–Be–HIDDEN!"

"That's what you want me to believe." Moody comfortably leaned back in his chair. "So what was it. A new dark magic glamour? Muggle cosmetic surgery? Amputation?"

"ARE YOU BLIND AS WELL AS DEAF? I HAVE BOTH MY ARMS!" _Harry_ roared, feeling justified at letting off some steam after who knew how many hours of being stuck in this room.

"Sure you do, boy. Sure you do." Moody chuckled darkly. "For now."

* * *

"You seriously think we shouldn't be too worried about him?" Teddy nervously remarked to _Ginny_ as the next batch of students–second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws–trudged into class. "He has been gone for awhile."

"He's fine." _Ginny_ replied with more confidence than she felt. "What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

"Interesting things you've got here." Moody's glass eye whizzed sporadically about. "The most interesting are the ugly ring, strange wand, and invisibility cloak–all stuck to you tighter than a permanent sticking charm. Care to explain how that happened?"

"They're the Deathly Hallows." The veritaserum back on _Harry_'s tongue forced him to answer. Though he was able to get out a warning. "Mixing their magic with potions isn't the best idea. See, they can get–temperamental."

Moody frowned at the small vial in his hand. "Maybe there weren't enough drops." He muttered to himself before his suspicious gaze landed back on the time traveller. "OI! What did you do to the potion, you filthy Death Eater? Thought you could pull one over on me, boy?"

_Harry_ groaned, realising that he wouldn't get back to Hogwarts for quite some time.

* * *

The three hushed words of, "We have news", was all the warning Ginny got before she was tugged into an empty classroom. Ron stopped chatting with Harry when Hermione reentered with the other girl in tow, locking the door behind them and quickly putting up privacy charms.

"What is _she_ doing here!" Ron questioned, pointing an accusing finger at his sister.

"_She_'s a part of this." Hermione replied calmly while glaring at the boys with a frightening intensity. Ron spluttered on for a few moments but Harry, already resigned to the latest event, just nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Ron," Harry said as he tugged his pack away to make a seat for Ginny, "she'll know about the Deathly Hallows as well. Shouldn't we get as much information as possible?"

"Exactly!" Hermione smiled at her friend happily, before doing a one-eighty to try and see if it was possible to kill someone with just a look. Ron yelped and almost fell off the couch. "We really should find the twins, Neville, and Luna as well but–"

"Deathly Hallows?" Ginny repeated slowly while looking around at the other teenagers. "Beedle the Bard's, the Three Brothers' Deathly Hallows?"

"Apparently." Harry replied wirily, staring at the ceiling with a blank face. "Looks like my older self managed to collect them all. Whoo."

Ginny gaped at him. Though whether it was because of his emotionless delivery or the statement itself remained unseen. "The–_the_ Deathly Hallows?"

Ron barked out a strangled laugh, returning to his seat while casting Hermione a wary glance. "Why are we so surprised by this? He's discovered the Chamber of Secrets and Gryffindor's sword–"

"_Hermione_ discovered the Chamber." Ginny corrected, shaking her head to get rid of the shock. "The sword was never lost."

"–not to mention breaking lots of magical rules." Ron sent his sister an annoyed look at her interruption. "Why wouldn't he prove a few more legends true?"

"While becoming 'Master of Death' along the way." Harry intoned drily. He too shook his head. "Damn it, why won't anyone say what that means!"

Ron paused, before his head swivelled around to watch his friend in amazement. "Bloody hell." His jaw dropped as he stared at his best mate as though he had just turned into a Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

"What?" Harry asked self-consciously, edging away from Ron's unyielding gape.

"You're _immortal_." The redhead whispered in hushed awe, leaning closer in amazement.

"What?" Harry scrambled away from his mental friend. "No, I'm not."

"It makes sense." Ron's eyes grew steadily wider. "You survived the killing curse as a baby and since then there must've been plenty of times when you–GAH! GINNY? The _hell_?"

"I wouldn't have to hit you if you wouldn't say stupid things." Ginny said as Ron rubbed the side of his head angrily. "Even if getting all the Hallows equals immortal, all of this supposedly happens in the future. It would have no impact on the past! So stop scaring Harry by acting weird."

"Oh. Ah, right." Ron looked up sheepishly at his still creeped-out mate. "Err, sorry 'bout that. Still though, future you is immortal!"

"Of course he's not." It was Hermione's turn to correct the misguided Weasley. "That's impossible."

"But the Philosopher's Stone–"

"–prolongs life." Hermione shook her head in annoyance. "You can't permanently 'put a stopper on death'. Think of where Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel are now."

"Huh." Ron opened and closed his mouth. "Okay then, so no immortality. Is he the Grim Reaper?"

_SLAP!_

"Thanks Ginny." Harry sighed while Ron cursed. "The Grim Reaper? Mate, what are you playing at? I'm pretty sure that's even more impossible than immortality."

Hermione nodded along but seemed pensive. "The 'Master of Death' is likely a misnomer and probably has more to do with the extra magic that keeps being mentioned. Has anyone ever let slip more of the story behind it? Something more, that is, than implying that it's incredibly powerful and dangerous?"

They all shook their heads. "Al did mention that all of the strange magic was new to him." Harry said shakily. "So maybe it was in the past? The time travellers' past, I mean. But I get the feeling that–er–we in the future hide a lot from the kids."

Ginny nodded. "They know scrapes of the adventures. It's as though future us told them all the good things and glossed over anything that went wrong. Like, they know that Vol–Voldemort was defeated but they don't know how."

"Jamie practically had a seizure when he heard you were a Parseltongue." Ron pointed out. "So, you don't speak to snakes much in the future?"

"No, he said he lost the ability somehow." Harry frowned. "Come to think of it, why _haven't_ I used that more? It could be really useful..."

"We can talk about that later." Hermione cut in. "But for now let's focus on figuring out this 'Master of Death' puzzle."

* * *

"It's a mirror." _Harry_ repeated for the umpteenth time. "Nothing magical about it."

"Yeah, for your vanity. Of course." Moody held up the compact to the light. "So it just happens to be a two-way mirror."

The time traveller paused. "Multi-tasking?"

"Uh huh." Moody thrust the object into _Harry_'s face. "Say the other person's name."

"That's not going to happen."

"I'm warning you boy–"

"What, you're going to tie me to a chair in an unplottable house, leaving me mostly petrified while you interrogate me? How frightening."

"Cheeky." Moody scowled. "How do you know the place is unplottable?"

"A guess." _Harry_ smiled slightly, unable to resist. "And you just told me."

"Damn it boy. Say the bloody name!"

"I won't. Oh," _Harry_ continued when he saw a furious Moody try to cut in, "and I'm perfectly aware of how two-way mirrors work. How they can only get in contact if the name of the other person is _willingly_ said. So don't bother trying to bluff me with threats."

"_Blasted Death Eater!_"

* * *

"So...he's some sort of super wizard." Ron lounged back in his seat in faux relaxation. The group had discussed the problem for ages and were no closer to solving anything. But coursework and lessons were calling, so at least three of them were very happy to continue sitting around in the dusty old classroom. Thankfully Hermione had her last period free, so there was no issue with getting her to skive off.

"The Master of Death?" Harry sighed, scratching the back of his neck. His uncertainty was obvious. "Apparently."

"No, not apparently." Hermione was quick to point out, having tried to argue this numerous times over the past conversation. She bit her lip in thought. "There's many problems with this old legend, we shouldn't take it too seriously. Oh, I wish _Ginny_ and Teddy had told us more! The cloak is straightforward enough, and there are so many historical tales about a Deathstick or Elder Wand that it isn't out of the realm of possibility. But a 'Resurrection Stone'? Really?"

"Compared to travelling back twenty years in–umph!" Ron grunted in pain. "Stop hitting me! Have all females gone crazy? Why are you so angry at me?"

With a final glare Hermione gained momentary satisfaction and continued on. "Time travel _is_ physically possible, and it makes sense that improvements to it would be made in the future. But this stone? Nothing can bring people back to life; just like immortality is ultimately impossible. It's nothing like ghosts or inferi–"

"Inferi?" Harry interrupted.

"Zombies." Hermione explained. "You-Know-Who," she ignored Harry's grumble, "used them in the last war. The point is that the stone's supposed power is impossible! It's breaking an intrinsic magical law that–"

"Like the 'fact' that it's impossible to survive a killing curse?" Harry again interrupted.

Hermione hesitated, her hand (previously raised in emphasis) remained awkwardly in the air. "Well, yes, but there were extenuating circumstances that–"

"_And_ we have proof of its existence. Remember, future information?" Ron popped in, happy to get on the bandwagon when it didn't seem like Hermione would return to slapping him for stress relief. "Blimey, Master of Death. Only you mate. How amazing would it be to have just the wand alone?"

Hermione scoffed, some of her bad mood towards Ron returning. "Honestly, the wand? It's obvious which Hallow is the best. Everyone would choose–"

"–the stone."

"–the wand."

"–the cloak."

The trio stared at each other. Ginny sniggered at their expressions.

It was Ron who was first to get over his shock and grin. "Hermione, you're _supposed_ to say the cloak. But we already have one of those!" He thumped Harry's shoulder. "Imagine having a wand which is bloody well impossible to defeat."

* * *

"...for the last time, it's not unbeatable." _Harry_ said tiredly. "The legend isn't entirely true."

Moody looked at him shrewdly. "So the wand's just more powerful. I'm betting close to impossible to beat in a regular duel?"

_Harry_ nodded, feeling his neck muscles creak from lack of usage. Thank Merlin the old coot was letting the petrifying spell wear off. "Pretty much. The Elder Wand usually changes hands through trickery, firewhisky, cunningness, or finding a loophole and exploiting a technicality."

"Or tying up and incapacitating the current owner?" Moody said without caring much.

"That too." _Harry_ nodded again. "You're welcome to try and take the damn thing. I might just kiss you if you succeed–without killing me, that is."

Another evaluating look. "Not all sunshine and daisies then?"

"Not even butter mellow."

"What?"

"Never mind, private joke." The time traveller sighed. "Look, possessing all the Hallows seems to change the rules."

"But since you're the first who's managed it you're in way over your head." Moody's serious and suspicious demeanour finally broke into a chuckle. "Harry Potter. Merlin boy, what have you gotten yourself into this time?"

_Harry_'s sigh of relief was obvious. "I've been in worst fixes."

"Something worst than time travel, the Deathly Hallows, fighting Voldemort, and potentially obstructing the entire timeline?"

"Don't forget teaching at Hogwarts while collecting Voldemort's horcruxes."

Moody stared at him for a beat, neither eye twitching. "Horcruxes?"

"Yep."

"Plural?"

"Seven." _Harry_ replied, wholly unsurprised that Moody knew about this ancient dark magic.

The old auror exhaled his breath. "Damn."

"Yeah." _Harry_ glanced down at his still petrified body. "You know, anytime you'd like to release me would be great. It's been, what, about a day or so?"

"What?" Moody snapped out of his state into a humourless laugh. "You aren't getting off so easy. We have hours of questions left–longer if you don't cooperate."

_Harry_ slammed his head back onto the chair, silently cursing and wondering what in Merlin's name he'd ever done to deserve this. Hadn't Umbridge and hero-worshipping trainee Aurors traumatised him enough?

Forget karma. It was fate that was the bloody bitch.

* * *

"Do you know how many ways there are to turn invisible? It's nothing special!"

"The _wizard_ makes the _wand_! Who cares if the Elder Wand is a bit more powerful!" As per usual, the Gryffindors' conversation had descended into Ron and Hermione standing an inch from each other, arguments being furiously exclaimed while their fingers edged towards their wands. No one was surprised.

"We already have the blasted cloak!"

"It doesn't make us overconfident, LIKE THE ELDER WAND WOULD!"

"IT WOULDN'T MAKE YOU OVERCONFIDENT!"

"Oh, like you wouldn't stroll into Hogsmeade and brag about it to Madam Rosmerta?"

"Why do you keep mentioning her?"

"Because you keep staring at her–assets."

"I'm a boy!"

"I KNOW! Honestly, at least _I_ figured that out in first year. Remember fourth?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, I _knew_ you were a girl."

"SO DID VIKTOR!"

"WHY ARE YOU BRINGING VICKY INTO THIS? ARE YOU STILL IN CONTACT WITH THAT BLOODY WANKER?"

"RONALD! LANGUAGE! AND STOP CALLING HIM 'VICKY'!"

Ginny glanced away from Hermione's and Ron's bickering to eye the silent third member of the trio. "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Why would you want the Resurrection Stone the most?" Ginny asked, watching as a swarm of emotions battled against the brave mask the dark-haired boy put up.

"I," Harry hesitated, looking over at the ensuing fight and raising wands to gain a few moments, "I'd get to see them again. My parents, that is. I've always wondered what they'd be like. Silly things, aside from me being the mirror image of my dad with my mum's eyes. I dunno, like what my mum's handwriting looked like, if they had pets, how they became friends..."

Ginny scooted forward, resting her head on the crook of Harry's neck to offer the only comfort that seemed right. "I'm sorry."

Her breath brushing Harry's cheek couldn't help but make him smile. And if he moved slightly closer and leaned into the touch, who was to know.

* * *

Voldemort ignored the whimpering of his servant.

"Now it has come full circle, has it not, Wormtail?" The Dark Lord said lightly as with a wave of his wand Pettigrew's mouth was bound tight. Another flick and the dirt between them and the headstone was violently thrown back. "Ah, I see you no longer wish to thank me. Do you not recognise my generosity?"

Pettigrew's cries became so loud that not even the conjured rag could entirely hold them back. A silencing charm cleared the problem up.

"Do not be so anxious, the grave is not for you." Voldemort peered at him curiously. "Or did you think I would bury you alive? Not only do you not have any loyalty or cunning, but you lack intellect and Gryffindor bravery as well. You are quite useless, Wormtail. But you will finally prove to be useful–of a sort–in this final act."

The grave rose slowly from the ground. Because of magic it was not battered by fourteen years of decay, but instead looked so pristine that it could have been for someone recently gone.

"_Wormtail_. I always wondered why you kept the moniker." He mused, mostly to himself, as the oaken coffin was levitated so that it stretched out horizontally on the ground before them. "You gleefully threw away everything else tying you to your schoolboy friendships, yet you kept the insulting name."

A single wave and the heavy wooden lid slid away.

"_Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail_ and, of course, the dearly departed _Prongs_." Voldemort sneered. "Was it meant to hurt the remaining members, Wormtail? Or was it foolish sentiment–the last bit of Gryffindor stubbornness which somehow refused to leave?"

Peter Pettigrew shook, but not to try to escape. There was obviously no way out of the bonds and a quick spell had neutralised his animagus ability. No, his shaking was not deliberate. He wasn't even aware that he did it.

"It matters not, I suppose." The corpse rose into the air and Voldemort noticed that his Death Eater seemed to marginally calm. "You are relieved that this is not him?"

Wormtail nodded but it was barely perceptible. The Dark Lord scoffed. "You will still meet him before the night is through." The Death Eater had yet to take his eyes off of the body. His Master's words didn't truly register.

The corpse was levitated down just enough that her pale green skirt brushed the graveyard's ground; red hair hung limp, unmoved by the slight breeze. The chill night air was unable to bring any colour to her porcelain, perfectly preserved complexion.

"Magic is a wonder, is it not?" Voldemort swept a finger down the body's cheek. "Here she floats, as though she was only sleeping. Frozen in stasis, one could believe she was merely unconscious. Have you seen her gravestone, Wormtail?"

Filled with panic, Pettigrew had no control over his body and certainly couldn't nod or shake his head. Thankfully for him, Voldemort did not care for an answer.

"'The last enemy that shall be conquered is death'. Biblical, I believe. Just like the silly mudblood. I gave her a chance to run and do you know what she did? She refused. '_No, take me instead!_'" Voldemort stared at the corpse for a few moments before turning away with a twisted smile. "Foolish girl. Though I confess, I was the most foolish for not recognising the ancient magic she enacted."

Voldemort waved his wand almost caressingly around the body, sparks of vivid emerald light cascaded alongside until the entirety of the woman was cocooned by the magic. Then, with an almost whisper, he intoned a faint spell. "_Holusporux_."

In contrast to the softness of its delivery, the curse burst out in a fury of blinding blood red which rushed from the Dark Lord, piercing and bursting the light around the body with a banshee's wail. Voldemort inhaled a sharp breath as the last strands of magic warded to create a bond between the two, the shriek from the curse breaking into weak whimpers. "See how worthless things can be made useful?" His smile would have had even phoenixes running at the sight. "A filthy mudblood attempted to stop me. _Me_. She was no rival–the same applies to her boy–but even now her death proves beneficial. Imagine, Wormtail, if one could harness the powerful blood magic of a witch not only aligned with the light, but directly connected with their side's 'boy saviour'? Imagine now if that force was intertwined with the darkest of magic and wielded by myself."

"As she will prove worthy to my cause, so shall you." Voldemort waved his yew wand almost playfully, eyeing Wormtail as a cat would a mouse. The red light–pulsing with anticipation–had now grown to encompass the men and the floating corpse. "_Avada kedavra!_"

There was no time for a last thought. No final statement; no regret for things long past, no remorse for present sins, and no worry of what would come after. Wormtail's last breath escaped his lips; his body collapsed, at last free of the convulses of the Cruciatus. The red light laughed, jumping about from body to body before at last settling into its new host.

Voldemort paid his dearly departed servant no mind. With the victorious smirk still on his lips, he levitated the corpse back into her coffin and then both to their earthly home. As the last bit of dirt and gravel was replaced and Peter Pettigrew was burned into unremarkable ashes, no one noticed the skin of Lily Potter crackling with dark magic seven feet below.

* * *

**A/N:** *peeks out from hiding* Pretty please don't kill me? See, before _Deathly Hallows_ I had a theory. It was brilliant: sheer brilliance, I tell thee. For I figured 'Harry-is-a-horcrux' was a partial red herring and that this twist was covering up an even greater revelation. For if Voldemort was so concerned about having seven soul pieces, wouldn't he create a new one when he found out his diary had been destroyed?

As it turned out, apparently not.

But Voldy _would_ have wanted a horcrux to symbolise his greatest obstacle's fall, of his survival of a fatal attack. Lily Potter was the reason for her son's survival. This light 'mudblood' threw everything she had at him–her magic and life itself–and still failed. She represented the light side and all of Voldemort's opponents; a defeat of his enemies and of death itself!

Damn, I really loved that theory. It even went with the 'Something of Gryffindor' thing. But not a sword or Sorting Hat: a former student! Merlin Rowling, why did you crush my hopes of wonderful canon angst? That was _so_ not cool. Totally below the belt.

Also, about the spell used to create a horcrux: _Holusporux_. The idea came about when my boyfriend and I were wondering that if a latin-ish form of 'abracadabra' kills people, what the hell would 'hocus pocus' do? We kinda shrugged before one of us absently replied it'd probably create a horcrux. Cue us suddenly halting in the rain, slowly turn to each other, and shout in identical glee.

When I found out I'd gotten a ticket to a Rowling book signing, my first reaction (after scaring my flatmates with a petrifying scream of awestruck joy) was 'OMGOMG I CAN ASK HER IF 'HOCUS POCUS' IS THE EVIL SPOILER SHE DIDN'T WANT ANYONE TO KNOW ABOUT!' And yes, I'm totally imagining Rowling dropping her pen and staring at me in shock. Then she'll be so impressed at my creative genius that we'll go for a cuppa, which is when I'll find out her kids read my fanfics. By the end of the day I'll have her and her publisher on my speed dial, and a promise that signed copies of all her books will be sent to me post haste.

Which is SO TOTALLY going to happen. Yup! Exactly.


	27. Fallen Hearts and Floating Heads

**A/N:** I'm home for the winter! So I'm torn between being thrilled for that and reeling from AVPSY's script. I was crying from page 77, before the Epilogue completely broke me down. I didn't even like Canon's Epilogue, for Merlin's sake! But this was too perfectly beautiful. ALBUS! HARRY BEING AN AWESOME DAD! GOING TO HOGWARTS AND THE HIDDEN SWIMMING POOL AND OMROMROMR I HAVE TO HEAR DARREN CRISS SINGING THIS! THE REPRISES! Oh my Rowling, I was bawling while singing to myself at 4am: I've listened to 'When I Was...' so many times it's now memorised. Because that's how crazy fangirls do it. Yups. Which isn't even mentioning HERMIONE'S AND LOCKHART'S WRITING AWESOMENESS!

*coughs* Anywho, I'm insanely sorry for the long wait for this chapter. My excuse? I'm been ridiculously busy with my dissertation, essays, postgrad applications, and meeting J.K. Rowling and Harry and the Potters. Remember, crazy fangirl here. I'll properly freak out about my totally awesome semester in the bottom A/N, if any of you peeps are interested. Or want reason to _crucio_ me. You know, either/or.

As for the actual fic, Chronostatis, I'm very glad you're enjoying my story and I certainly did not mean to insult your House. But er, if you don't mind me asking, which House are you? I jokingly poke fun at Gryffindor and Slytherin, but I assure you I love both of them as well as the Badgers and Eagles. In the HP Society at my university, I'm a Ravenclaw prefect (but truly a Slytherin at heart), am best buds with the Head of Hufflepuff, and am the girlfriend of a Gryffindor prefect. I also have Diplomatic Immunity with Gryffindor (so I can hide in their safe house in the cupboard under the stairs), am the Official Fanfiction Advisor for Hufflepuff, and am part of an Unholy Alliance with Slytherin. So, yeah. Whatever joke I wrote, I promise that I meant it with love.

I also want to absolutely agree with the reviewer bianca and thank, once again, my totally awesome beta spellmugwump97! Oh, and to any Tolkein fans, in honour of the new incredible movie "The Hobbit", this chapter has a wee spin-off from my favourite scene.

**General Disclaimer:** I'm an H/Hr shipper: no, I and my kin are not delusional. But I've admittedly softened to Harry and Ginny. All it took was watching "A Very Potter Musical", memorising 'Not Alone' in record time, and falling in love (-falling in love, falling in love-) with Darren Criss:

'I'm the Mickey to your Minnie,

the Tigger to your Winnie-

AC!' *dies*

So much better than Cho Freakin' Chang.

But I'm still not Rowling or a member of Starkid. Damn it.

* * *

Monday morning saw a disheveled _Harry_ limping into breakfast. The castle was still reeling from the aftereffects his capture had had on the previous week, and everyone's opinions about the Parker family had shifted dramatically over the course of the nine days.

After a series of stress-relieving pranks, no longer would Al and Lily be able to sneak around a crowd (unseen and unsuspected), nor would Jamie ever again be dismissed as merely Fred's and George's apprentice-in-making. _Ginny_ had taken the uncertainty surrounding her husband even worst than her kids, but this had manifested in something which caused the Ravenclaws to mutter 'bipolar' whenever they were out of earshot. For their new–though quickly beloved (especially by the boys)–teacher had transformed overnight into a maniacally nefarious witch who was clearly vying with Bellatrix Black in terms of homicidal insanity. She had yet to curse anyone, but every student knew it was only a matter of time. What hardened the theory about her loosening sanity was her attitude towards her remaining family. In a few hours she'd gone from being the 'cool mum', to 'insanely-overprotective-beyond-all-belief'. Teddy was the only time traveller who people were not afraid to approach, but even while trying to keep his families' insanity to a minimum he had taken to the phrase 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' in a way that would have made Mad-Eye Moody proud. Well, if Moody wasn't after his 'Death Eater' self.

Since only a small number knew why Henry Parker was missing, the rumours only grew and spiralled out of control. The Gryffindors in the know watched all of this with horrified disbelief. Ron could only stop laughing about his sister turning into their mum when Hermione drily reminded him how their Defence Against the Dark Arts classes would inevitably descend into violence if this continued, and did he really want to be _Ginny_'s target? Ginny–while very sorry for her older self and saddened at _Harry_'s disappearance–was equally on eggshells around the older witch, having no idea how she'd react. Harry likewise took to avoiding all the Parkers. After Lily's fourth tearful hug ("EEE! DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO!" "I'm sorry but–can't–can't breath–Lily? Air? Some air?"), Al and James' second interrogation about what he'd do in a hypothetical hostage situation and whether he knew how to kill with his thumbs, Teddy's constant attempts to shadow him ("You're the boy-who-lived. You need a bodyguard. Why don't you have a bodyguard? Stupid Dumbledore, stupid Ministry. Wait–hey! Where're you going!), and the way _Ginny_'s eyes filled with tears whenever she caught sight of him, he was understandably at his wits end. It was thus unsurprising that Harry and Ginny took to escaping out to the Quidditch Pitch at every possible chance, letting the wind and mild banter chase away their fears.

So it was that breakfast that Monday would have made many people happy. But very few were there to partake in this joy. With the turn of September into October, regular Hogwartians had taken to avoiding regular meal times if they spotted a grimacing _Ginny_ in attendance. As for the unordinary people: Neville had been coaxed into chasing nargles with Luna, the Weasley Twins were challenging the Parkers to see who could fill McGonagall's classroom with cat nip the fastest, Teddy was tiredly wiping the memories of a pair of Ravenclaws who had–yet again–guessed the time travellers' secret, Hermione and Ron were having their latest bickering up in the dorm, and Harry and Ginny were laughingly trying to catch a snitch. Thus, when _Harry _limped into the Great Hall, the burst of reaction was not as mighty as it should have been.

It was the hushed whispers that had first caught _Ginny_'s attention. Glancing up from her toast she caught sight of Dumbledore's absurdly twinkling eyes. Resisting the urge to remark on what the bloody hell he could be 'twinkling' about, she again swept her gaze around the Hall. She paused, her breath hitched. She double-checked, rapidly blinked, and–without another thought–bolted from her seat and across the Great Hall into his arms. The students and teachers alike gave a deep sigh of relief as the witch's homicidal side was visibly reburied.

"You stupid git." _Ginny_'s voice was muffled and shaking with emotion on her husband's shoulder. "Don't ever ever–"

"Gin?" He said quietly, not realising that a few students were close enough to hear.

"–ever ever," she drew in a heavy breath, "_ever_ do anything like that again. Or I'm going to murder you, Moody, Sirius, and the Old Coot."

"So you know what happened then." _Harry_ gently led her out the hall before they could cause more of a scene, nodding to Dumbledore as he went. "It's fine. It took some time, but Moody believes us and I have a few more of the objects. Are you and the kids all right?"

"Oh, same old same old." She huffed, a bit of her nature returning. "We've just been going sick with worry and–"

"Professors!"

They both groaned in unison, recognising the voice that had surreptitiously followed them out of the Hall. _Harry_ turned around, forcing out a polite smile as he did so. "Miss Patil. Sorry, but I've just returned from a trip. Could your question wait until later?"

Apparently it could not. Padma Patil's eyes grew wide as saucers as she surveyed both adults, a giddy grin spreading. "You're–you're–"

"Oh not again." _Ginny_ groaned into her husband's ear. He gave a slight nod of agreement before hearing the girl out.

"We're what?" He asked. The student merely stared at him with an all-too familiar predatorily gaze. This was mercifully not the fangirl's 'cat-that-just-caught-the-mouse' stare, and was instead Hermione's expression of epiphany whenever she untangled her newest problem. He only just resisted rushing away from the student. "Never mind. Don't answer that."

"You're–you're Harry Po–" Padma repeated, awestruck. _Harry_ took a quick survey of the surrounding, empty corridor, before flashing a quick spell at the student.

"Shouldn't you be back in the Great Hall?" _Ginny_ said gently to the suddenly frazzled girl. Said student blinked up at them with a glazed stare, before nodding in confusion and about facing back towards the rumbling noise.

Both teachers hurried away before anyone else could catch them.

"_Muffliato_. Ravenclaws are too smart for their own good." _Harry_ sighed, skidding down the Entrance Hall. "Or we're too stupid. Either one, really. Wait. Where are we going?"

"We're off to visit our biggest old friend, he just got back last night! But yes, goodness knows we've already had to _obliviate_ a quarter of that House multiple times. Patil, Chang and Goldstein are the worst. What are they at, a round dozen each?"

"Now it's thirteen for Padma." _Harry_ grumbled even though his expression lightened at the unexpected good news. "Definitely too observant. Still, it's not as though the other students and teachers aren't giving us trouble."

"Only the Gryffindors and a few Hufflepuffs have noticed anything odd." _Ginny_ pointed out. "Sure, we've had to charm the Quidditch team, Lee Jordan, the Creevey's, and the fifth and fourth years a few times, but at least the Slytherins are minding their own business."

"Vector almost got _me_ the last time." He said forlornly as they approached Hagrid's hut. "But doesn't it seem strange that the Slytherins haven't noticed anything? I was sure I'd have to memory charm Malfoy at least a bit."

"Maybe they're busy." She shrugged. "We can look into it when we have time. For now they aren't causing trouble so let's focus on the main things. Like greeting old friends." She gave him a cheeky grin before knocking on the door.

A few barks from Fang was the only warning _Harry _got before the opening was flung wide and he was enveloped in a humongous bear hug. He could feel his ribs cracking but didn't particularly care.

"Yeh here!" Hagrid sobbed onto his shoulder, practically lifting the startled man off his feet before the latter could brace himself. "When Dumbledore told me I couldn't believe–but look at yeh! Always knew yeh'd do it, but Head Auror? Didn't I say yeh'd be a thumping brilliant wizard?"

"Hagrid!" _Harry _grinned brightly as he returned the hug to his oldest friend. "How have you been? I hope the giants weren't too tricky."

"Me?" Hagrid at last set him down. "_I'm_ not the one who's bin messin' with time. Wait, congratulations! Gin–oops, sorry. _Jenny_ told me 'bout the kids! Right troublemakers, they sound like. No surprise. I always knew yeh two'd get together!"

"They're a handful." _Ginny_ said happily as _Harry_ rubbed his sore ribs. "You have to meet them–especially since our youngest is your Goddaughter."

Hagrid froze in the doorway. A moment later the couple were lifted up into another bone-crushing hug. Fang giddily raced around them, howling a frenzy which reached up to Hogwarts' gates.

* * *

Lily Parker was in a hurry. Her bag thumped against her leg as she raced down another moving staircase, cursing the castle's intricate corridors and trying to recall that tapestry shortcut Jamie had told her about. _Or was it Professor Snape? Eh, didn't matter. Bloody useless thing either way if she couldn't find it._

While normally she was quite adept at directions (one or two nighttime explorations hadn't hurt), she found herself paying far less attention to her surroundings than usual as her mum's Patronus message replayed in her head. _Hagrid was back! Oh, she couldn't wait to see him. Maybe he'd have another unicorn fowl or blast-ended skrewt he could show her? Or, wait, he must've just come back from the mountains. He'd have Grawp with him!_

Her racing turned into a flat-out run as she pivoted around corners, ducked under bewildered students, and shouted out half-greetings to any blurred shape she recognised. That was, that is, until she body slammed into two boulders, knocking her to the ground.

Lily sat up slowly, gripping her sack and holding her head, trying to figure out what had hit her. The answer came all too soon as she was man-handled into an empty classroom before anyone could notice. She blinked, realised the 'boulders' were Slytherins, and that a smaller blond one was smirking in the shadows. A groan escaped her. _Damnit, now she'd be late for tea._

"Hello." She said as pleasantly as she could, shaking herself free of Crabbe and Goyle's holds. "I'd love to chat but I'm in a hurry and–"

"Surely you can stay for a short while." The blond student came closer. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Bond. James Bond."

Malfoy blinked. "What?"

"Muggle joke." Lily waved it away with a smirk. "I'm Lily Parker, but I expect you knew that. I'm also a Gryffindor and as such have no business with Slytherins. So ta."

Malfoy moved forward to block her from leaving, her bag slamming harmlessly on his chest. "I think we do have something to discuss. See, I know you aren't really 'Bond'–"

"Oh really?" Lily rolled her eyes.

"–or 'Parker'." Malfoy's statement made her freeze. He came closer, surveying her face intently. "What, did you think I was an idiot? You lot come trampling in and expect no one to put two and two together?" Crabbe–or Goyle–chuckled stupidly from behind Lily. Malfoy was close enough for her to see the anticipatory glint in his eyes.

"Red hair, freckles, hanging out with the Golden Boy and his little friends." _Oh damn oh damn oh damn_. Lily tried to calm her breathing. She surreptitiously scrambled a hand through her bag to search for her dratted wand. "It isn't difficult to connect the dots." Malfoy smirked. "We have another Weaselette. Merlin, is your family so poor just because you breed by the dozen?"

Lily felt relief sweep through her as she thanked Merlin for her mum's genes. She still continued to clutch around for her wand, cursing that she hadn't listened when dad had overprotectively recommended a holster. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do." Malfoy smiled cruelly, reaching out to touch a lock of her hair. She quickly stepped back. "I also know how special your family is to Dumbledore's little gang. But isn't it wonderful how, if you can grab the weakest link, you can make everyone follow your every command?"

_Oh bloody hell, Al and Scorp were going to kill her._ "Just to warn you, I can take care of myself."

"You?" Malfoy actually laughed. His goons did as well, but a beat behind. "Hear that boys, an ickle firstie thinks she's threatening. What are you going to do, shoot a big bad _lumos_ at me? A jelly leg jinx?"

Lily's eyes narrowed at the Slytherin's condescending tone. Her fingers gripped onto her wand. _Screw repercussions, she could always say this was self-defence. Now what was that her mum had told her about incapacitating levitation spells?_

* * *

"Hagrid!" Lily raced through the door and flew into the surprised half-giant's arms. Hagrid took one look down, realised who it was, grinned excitedly, and gave her a rip-crushing hug right back.

"LILY! Yer family's was tellin' me 'bout yeh!"

"Er, Hagrid? Remember she's only ele–"

"DADDY!" Lily shrieked, twirling around and slamming into her startled father. He chuckled and patted her on the back.

"Merlin, if I knew you kids would react like this when I'm only gone a few days…"

"Nah," Jamie examined a rock cake doubtfully before flinging it onto Al's plate, "we only get worried when you're captured by a raving lunatic auror. So Lils, why're you late?"

Lily grumbled onto her dad's shoulder as Hagrid blinked in surprise. "Stupid Slytherins."

The other six members of the room paused before they all turned to stare at her. Hagrid was worried; the others were apprehensive.

"What did you do?" Teddy asked slowly.

She crossed her arms, still sitting on her dad's lap. "Malfoy and his goons cornered me because they think we're Weasleys."

"Did they threaten you?" _Harry_ and _Ginny _automatically moved for their wands and Hagrid for his umbrella.

"Yeah." She replied with a pout. "Don't worry, I took care of it."

"Again Lils," Al spoke as though he didn't want to hear the answer, "what did you do?"

Lily opened her mouth before pausing, closing, and opening it again. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I think Crabbe's wand backfired on them. Or maybe Goyle's, I can never tell them apart."

"How much of a mess did you make?" Teddy and the others groaned while Hagrid's bewilderment grew.

"Er," she shrugged sheepishly, "Malfoy can at least still have Scorp, if that's what you're asking. Aside from that..."

"I blame you." _Ginny_ sighed at her husband. "Ever since the first, 'Hello Sweetie', you've been corrupting the innocent Weasley family."

"Wait, what did you say?" Al did a double-take while Lily also looked startled. "_Yes!_ So knew it!"

All turned to him as he cheered, shocked, until Lily let out a low groan. "Not another word." She said to him threateningly. Said brother's grin didn't fade, nor did the others' confused looks. Their parents exchanged a short grin, but made a mental note to look into Malfoy.

Hagrid watched them, blinked, petted Fang, and decided it was time for more rock cakes.

* * *

An urgent patronus message, unfortunately, soon brought this reunion to a close. So the older Parkers found themselves back up in Hogwarts, waiting with slight tension eyeing their new company. _Harry_ resisted the urge to fidget. _Ginny_ snorted, Dumbledore twinkled, the portraits 'slept', and Snape kept his scowl prominent.

"Potter." The Potions' Master broke the silence by spitting out.

"Snape." An incline of his head as the auror tried to determine how likely it was that the spy would curse him for the heck of it.

Snape's sneer strengthened. "The Headmaster insisted on calling you two in, despite my strong warnings against such ridiculousness."

"I feel so loved." _Ginny_ deadpanned. Snape ignored her.

"Severus has gained us distressing news." Dumbledore cut in gently, sending appeasing looks to both parties. "Last night Tom asked him what he knew about horcruxes. More importantly, he questioned if a potion could determine whether or not a soul has been fragmented too much."

Snape sniffed, as though the present conversation was beneath him. "I told him that while I knew about the things no such potion exists. But I fail to see how any of this matters, except that the Dark Lord might be more vulnerable. Which would, oh yes, most decidedly be a _good_ thing."

Dumbledore rested his fingers beneath his chin, creasing his beard and looking older than his years. "This would indeed be positive news. Except that you mentioned that Tom spoke in the near past tense, presumably because he had become worried about a recently made horcrux."

_Ginny_ gasped while _Harry_ fought the sudden urge to destroy Dumbledore's office once more. "We're, we're sure about this?"

"When one combines your, young Mr. Potter's, and Severus' testimony…" the Headmaster hesitated, "…it becomes almost a certainty."

"So he's made another horcrux." _Harry_ jerked up from his chair to restlessly pace the room, ignoring his wife's concern and Snape's sneer. "We have no idea what it is?"

"Indeed."

"Don't forget our advantages." _Ginny_ chimed in. "Even aside from our future knowledge, we've destroyed the diary and have the ring, diadem, and locket."

"Hufflepuff's cup is still in Gringotts." _Harry_ pointed out, pushing his glasses up to rub between his eyes. "Nagini's out of reach, and the accidental horcrux is still a huge issue. All our knowledge is useless if the future's changed too much."

"Then we'll finish this as quickly as possible." She spoke with false determination as Snape narrowed his eyes at the mention of an 'accidental' horcrux. "The unknown object might be something of Gryffindor's, right? So lets delegate. The kids who know about us can research Gryffindor's items–Merlin knows Hermione's bound to find something. You'll teach your younger self occlumency and keep an eye on any problems there. The Order can figure out a way into Gringotts, and we'll keep working on a way back home while figuring out how to destroy the, the tricky horcrux."

_Harry_ sent his wife an anxious look. "Great plan. Except for the last bit. It's not that I want to say this–"

"Then don't." _Ginny_ bit out, crossing her arms.

"–there isn't another choice." _Harry_ kept going even though he was rattled. "Do you think I like this? There _isn't_ a way out. At least with a killing curse there's a chance that–"

"WHAT?" _Ginny_ shouted, shooting to her feet, pointing warningly at her husband. "We should hope the blood magic will work while twiddling our thumbs? Damn it, I'm not going to leave yours and our children's lives to chance!"

"It wouldn't actually be us." _Harry_ said tiredly. "This would be a new world, a new timeline."

"Do you think I care about that?" _Ginny_ hissed, her eyes flashing. "You utter bastard! Fine, screw you. I'll find a way to save him myself. Have fun with your 'Greater Good'!"

"Gin—" but the office door had already slammed with a definite _bang_.

Snape interrupted the silence by snorting, folding his fingers together, and gazing in amusement at the cursing older Potter. "Trouble in paradise, I see." He swiftly stood and billowed towards the exit. When his hand was on the doorknob he looked back at Dumbledore with a hardening expression. "Do not think I missed the allusions to the younger 'Golden Boy'. We will discuss the lightning bolt scar, any dark magic behind it, and what you knew later. Good day Headmaster. Potter, stay the hell out of my way."

The door, once again, slammed shut.

* * *

Harry Potter had a headache.

This didn't shock him, and rubbing his scar had become second nature. Reflexive. So what if Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the Parkers gave him nervous looks whenever he did it? He was alone now and, either way, was too tired to care. Yet the last thing he wanted was to go to bed and be left alone with the pounding in his head. For while the thudding pain in his scar was bad enough, it was his thoughts which was truly making his head feel like it was about to split from uncertain tension.

For ever since _Ginny_ had appeared some weeks ago, Harry had noticed a subtle change in the air. Not a significant one, not a world-changing alteration. It wasn't as though she and his older self were always hanging off of each other. There were just subtle touches, warm hugs, and light kisses while in public. While these innocent displays of attention were enough to make the female population of Hogwarts coo at the cute couple, they weren't what bugged Harry. He was even 'happy' that the two of them had made a public scene that morning: at least he knew the family was back to normal and would stop bugging him.

Harry even talked to _Ginny_ here and there, and it hadn't been as awkward as he'd imagined it would be. Like his older self, she didn't mention his and present Ginny's lack of a relationship. There had been one or two curious looks, but nothing more.

No, Harry had no issue with the woman herself. _Or really,_ he told himself sternly as he walked down to the kitchens, _there isn't any issue._ None at all. Of course not. Nothing was wrong. He was only feeling off-balance, but he would get used to it. It would cease to bug him that ever since _Ginny_ had arrived, the time travellers seemed more at home.

Harry frowningly mused that it wasn't even how they acted. Their group just seemed more, complete. He shook his head, annoyed at himself. Because of course the kids would be happier: they must have been missing their mother, who wouldn't? It was the same with Teddy. As for his older self–

He paused in his step, feeling his invisibility cloak riffle slightly at the abrupt stop. The deserted corridor shifted around him, the pale lanterns in the dark glancing off the silken cloth. For that was the image that refused to leave his mind. Of _Ginny_ and his older self walking down the hallway, chatting as they effortlessly fit at the other's side. Whenever he saw just one or the other, the entire scene seemed inherently wrong.

Harry sighed, wringing a piece of the cloak over his fingers as he remained still, a corridor away from the fruit bowl portrait. He couldn't ignore this, for the stark change in the time travellers' personas was just too obvious. It wasn't as though they had seemed sad or depressed before _Ginny_ had arrived, but now that she was here he couldn't imagine the group as being whole without her. Shaking his head he returned to walking towards the kitchen. In vain, he reminded himself that all of this made perfect sense and there was no need to worry about it. _Ginny_ was their mum, practically-mum, and wife–he shouldn't be so surprised that they acted like a family. Rubbing his beating scar he suppressed a yawn before tiredly telling himself that he needed to get more sleep: these ridiculous musings were proof enough of that.

Reaching and tickling the pear portrait, Harry stepped through into the delicious smells and warm, bustling air as the nearby house-elves squeaked their greetings once he pulled off his cloak. The fabric was stuffed into his pocket, just barely fitting it over the small golden ball. Stowing it away, he looked around the kitchen before a flash of red hair froze his smile in place. Too late, he recalled a bit of conversation from a few hours previously, with Ginny's voice calling out as they made their way back from a late Quidditch session: _"No, go ahead. I have an essay to finish up so I'll be in the kitchens with chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate."_

He fought the impulse to throw his invisibility cloak back over himself. Ginny was the last person he wanted to see when he was confused. Why hadn't he remembered that she was coming here? Wait–Harry gaped as a thought occurred to him–_had_ he remembered? But it was too late to hide, for her head was turning and her wide brown eyes had pierced his. She lowered the piece of chocolate egg (what were the house elves making?) and smiled in his direction.

In a daze, his feet led him over to Ginny's table. His mouth stumbled out a greeting and he examined her plate, the table, the bustling and bouncing house-elves, anything and everything but her. Said girl was hardly oblivious to this.

"Merlin Harry, I can't believe you're rattled." Ginny said with some astonishment. This was enough to make him look up. She had a smudge of chocolate on her lip; he just stopped himself from making a motion to wipe it off. "You only act like this when something impossible happens. Is Ron in love with Romilda Vane? Did mum kill a Death Eater? Or wait, no. You must have found out that Snape has inner depths!"

"Wait, what?" Harry said, looking at her oddly. Though he was happy to note that his voice was back to normal. "It's nothing, nothing like that. I was just distracted."

Ginny wasn't convinced. "So long as you haven't been confunded. Sure. You can sit down, you know. There is a perfectly good seat." Harry looked around, startled, having not noticed the second chair. He only hesitated for a moment before jumping into the chair with a quick thanks. She arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure you haven't been hexed?"

"Positive." He replied, feeling a slight flush grow. "So, how did your essay go? What class was it for?"

Ginny still looked concerned, but a small smile appeared when Harry recited her earlier words. A small suspicion entered her head. "It's about the properties of mandrakes and belladonna for Potions. It's a nightmare, but I only have a few inches left if you have any suggestions."

Harry half-smiled. "Off the top of my head? Sorry Ginny, I'm not great at that class. But if you'd like I can help you corner Hermione later?"

"Thanks, but I've already done that. She's busy with Ron." Ginny said with an aggrieved tone, echoed by Harry's wince. "Why they can't just apologise and snog is beyond me. Anyway, my next stop is Ravenclaw Tower to bug Luna for help."

"Ravenclaw? Ginny, it's already midnight." Harry said as she took a sip of water. He tried to, once again, repress the unwanted mental image of his best friends' blatant sexual tension. "Where is their tower anyway?"

Ginny spluttered and choked at Harry's words. "Wha- wait ... What?"

Harry stared back at her blankly, thrown at her surprise. He quirked a glance over his shoulder just to make sure nothing was amiss. "What?"

"Don't you _know_?" Ginny said shocked, ignoring the water dripping over her. Harry was strangely disappointed to notice the chocolate smudge had disappeared.

"Where the Ravenclaw Common Room is?" He said slowly, eyeing Ginny with concern. "No, actually. I've only been to Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"Slytherin's, but not the other two?" Ginny asked, finally brushing the water off of her front.

"Yeah, it's in the dungeons. Ron and I snuck in there a few years ago–long story. Which Houses have you been in?"

"Gryffindor and Ravenclaw."

Harry eyed her oddly. "Then why're you so surprised I haven't been there?"

Ginny returned his confused stare. "You have the Marauder's Map and an invisibility cloak. With Ron's nagging, Hermione's curiosity, and you being you, I'd assumed you three had explored all of Hogwarts!"

He was about to retort before realising she had a decent point. "We've snuck around a fair amount, but the castle is a big place."

"I guess you're also usually busy uncovering some mystery or other." Ginny said drily, getting over her surprise. "Which the DADA Professor is almost always behind, by the way. You might want to watch out."

"Ron's already done that joke to death." Harry groaned exasperatedly. But he was slightly surprised at his somewhat amused reaction. Somehow, with Ginny smiling at him, he couldn't find it in himself to get truly annoyed; not even with his lingering headache. His mind drifted to his earlier thoughts with the image of their older versions not only happily married, but fitting with each other naturally. Effortlessly. When _Ginny_ got angry, _Harry_ quickly calmed her down. When a frown drifted across _Harry_'s face, _Ginny_ clasped his hand and smiled. Just smiled–

–just like Ginny's. Both fiery redheads had the same oval of a grin, open but verging on a smirk; the same slight indents where she would bite her lip; and the four identical freckles hugging the corners of her melon pink–

"Harry?"

He shifted his focus from Ginny's lips to the words coming through them. The monster in his chest whimpered in protest. She frowned at Harry's dazed look. "You really are distracted tonight. Maybe you should head back to the dorm?"

"No, no. I'm fine." Harry blatantly lied. "I'm not tired–just have a lot on my mind. Anyway, I can't let you wander around the castle by yourself."

"By myself?" Ginny said slowly, annoyance visible in her tone.

"I meant that I have my cloak with me, not anything else." Harry explained quickly, pulling said magical object from his pocket onto the table. "If we go together then neither of us will be caught out after curfew."

"Oh." She said, pacified. "But I really do want to take a detour to see Luna. Are you sure you wouldn't mind?"

Harry laughed, pushing away his nudging tiredness and headache. His highest priority was blatantly apparent and worth a bit of discomfort. "Like I would pass on an opportunity to explore."

"That's right, I forgot who I was talking to." Ginny said with a hint of amusement. "So, do you think we'll discover any of Hogwarts' secrets tonight?"

"Why not?"

Thus the two demolished the remaining chocolate eggs and quickly made their way out of the kitchen, calling out their thanks to the excited house-elves. Both took some of the offered snacks, stuffing them into their pockets as they climbed out of the portrait hole.

"Right then." Harry whispered, drew out his cloak and draped it over them as they stepped out into the corridor. He paused as Ginny stared at the shimmering material in amazement, realising that she hadn't been under it before. "We're entirely invisible, but it won't block out sounds we make. Oh, and can't just walk through things."

"Invisible not transparent." Ginny nodded, fingering the watery fabric with a smile. "Got it. God, Fred and George would give anything to be under here."

"I prefer your company." He sent her a cheeky grin as they both set off, leaving the fruit bowl painting behind. The late night and sinking tiredness was starting to gift him with a lack of inhibition. "Anyway, they'd probably try to experiment on it or something else daft. So, where's Ravenclaw Tower?"

"Fifth floor." Ginny answered promptly, guiding them to a revolving staircase. "It's behind an eagle statue. We just need to answer a riddle to get inside. No problem. It's usually something odd like, say, 'What has roots no one can see and is taller than a giant?"

"No problem?" Harry got an unwanted flashback to the Sphinx's smile. "Maybe for a Ravenclaw."

"It's a mountain." Ginny said, still in a quiet whisper. She hushed as Filch's voice could be heard. Harry paused before drawing them over to the wall.

"Did you hear that, my sweet?" The caretaker stared suspiciously around the second floor as Mrs. Norris meowed. The man didn't notice that the cat's gaze followed the two retreating Gryffindors until they disappeared up the next staircase.

When they were on the third floor and once again alone, Harry chanced a hushed explanation. "I think cats can smell, but can't see us."

"Have you given McGonagall a fright?" Ginny murmured back. "Right then, your turn."

"My what?"

"For the riddle." She nudged his arm lightly. "Ask me a question."

Again, the Sphinx flashed through his mind. But that riddle was long and he doubted he could remember the entirety. He hesitated before remembering a book he'd read once in boredom, one of the few that Dudley hadn't ripped apart or doodled over. "What's in my pocket?"

Ginny blinked. "Excuse me?"

"What's in my pocket?" Harry grinned, his pace strengthening as amusement got rid of the worst of his sleepiness. "Come on, it's a question."

"It doesn't count." She groaned about stupid boys. His smile broadened. A passing portrait gave a loud snore. "Fine. Nothing?"

"No."

"Your hand?"

"Nope."

"Damn it Harry!" Another portrait snorted in his sleep. The students both stilled before returning to whispers. "Your wand?"

"Nuh-uh." But this time Harry's denial elicited a triumphant cry from Ginny.

"No, it is!" She insisted before lowering her voice. "You always have your wand with you and you never specified which pocket. So I win!"

Harry hesitated before shrugging, preferring not to argue. "All right, you win. Congrats."

They only continued walking for a few more moments before Ginny broke in again. "What _is_ in your pocket?"

"Not part of the game." His grin twitched in amusement.

"But now I'm curious." She looked down as his right hand beat against it. "Tell me."

"Nope."

"Please tel–ah hah!" Using her statement as a distraction she leaned down and, quick as an attacking hippogriff, grasped the item and pulled it to her to examine. "It's a–a snitch?"

He didn't mind much and just ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I won it from Al at Quidditch practice."

"Ah." She twisted it around in realisation. "When you two were competing to see who'd be seeker?"

"That's right." He watched as she gently tossed it up and down, just barely brushing the overhanding cloak. "He almost got it too. I wouldn't be surprised if he hesitated."

"Like he wanted to be reserve seeker?" Ginny sent him an understanding look, her fingers against the golden brushed metal. "Jamie did the same thing to me. I'm pretty sure he could have beaten me hands down for chaser, but he told me that he'd only be the reserve member or refuse to play at all. Cheeky brat. But why did you get the snitch?"

"You didn't hear?" Harry chuckled. "Lily had started playing with the official one, set it off, and I heard she dodged around one of the Giant Squid's tentacles to get it, before playing catch with it. I'm tempted to believe that's true. Anyway, since the other snitch was lost Al got out his. We were the final two seekers, and when I caught it he told me I should keep it."

"Just like that?" Ginny continued playing with the snitch close to her eyes as she breathed out her statement, glossing the object. "I–wait, Harry, look at this."

He leaned over and, in the dark, could just make out the elegant carving appearing on the golden ball:

_'I open at the close'_

"So strange." Ginny continued whispering as Harry took it back, his eyebrow arching. They both stopped in the corridor under a small window for light. "Did Al say anything about the snitch?"

"No he, not really." His voice was thick with confusion. "He seemed really disappointed when I won it, and was playing around with it as though expecting it to do something. I didn't want to take it at all but he practically forced it on me. He was a resigned, said that he'd won it from someone as a kid, but that since it wouldn't open for him he was 'returning it'. Was this what he meant? I couldn't make sense of it."

"_Returning it._" Ginny breathed, looking up at Harry with wide eyes. "You don't think…if he won it off of his dad…"

"That's what I was thinking." He frowned as the words on the snitch began to fade. He stowed it in his pocket. "I figured I would give it back to Parker when he comes back to class."

"Parker?" She arched an eyebrow in amusement, the moonlight glinting off of her red hair. "This is giving new meaning to 'detachment'. Harry, it's just us."

"And the portraits."

"Who are asleep." She murmured, casting a quick glance around the deserted area. "Harry, I know you aren't as close to me as Ron and Hermione, but really. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

He was a bit thrown at the random statement. "Thanks? We are close, but I don't really have anything to talk about."

"Because you keep denying it's real." She gazed at him, matching him stubbornness for stubbornness. "Don't lie, we're all doing it. We'll only mention 'the Parkers' in passing, and haven't talked at all about the repercussions! We're friends with the kids, but haven't mentioned to each other what their _very existence_ implies. Even ignoring the war, time travel, Deathly Hallows, and every other mystery that follows the Parkers–our future selves–around, we're still walking around the issues like egg shells."

"What's the problem?" Yes, Harry was definitely thrown. He couldn't disagree with her, per se, but her forceful argument had come out of nowhere. "So I called him 'Parker', it's supposed to be a secret. Also, so what if I'm private, I don't have to talk about every–"

"–I don't want this year to be full of miscommunications." Ginny sighed as though she was unloading a weight from her shoulders. "Look at what its done to Ron and Hermione. One hint that they'll be together in the future, one kiss, and now they're at each others' throats for no reason!"

"They've always been barmy."

"Look at us!" Her voice gained some heat, though it was still barely a whisper. Harry glanced away from her smoldering chocolate brown eyes. "Some time travellers go, 'We're you and your kids!', and instead of discussing this we ignore each other. Then we kiss, promptly ignore _that_, and decide to be all chummy while pretending the giant chimera isn't in the room!"

"It's not that!" Harry spoke rapidly before descending to a hushed murmur. With a quick glance around, he tugged the cloak off of them both so that he could properly see her. He let the cloth fall to the ground. "With everything else going on, is this really the highest priority?"

"Of course not. But that doesn't mean we should ignore it." Ginny said with forced calm. "I'm not saying we should get together: I just want to know what's going on. What you're thinking!"

"This isn't the best place for a conversation." His senses began to return as he reached for the hastily discarded cloak.

"Potter, either you start explaining or I'll tell the twins and Jamie to turn you into a tartan coloured unicorn for a week."

Harry winced as Ginny proved once again that she was as creatively terrifying as any prankster. He froze before straightening. "I want to tell you. It's just that-"

"Just what?" She ground out.

"I didn't mean any of this as an insult. The, the ignoring and silence and, damn it." Harry blurted out, not taking the time to think about what he was saying. "It had nothing to do with you! You're an amazing friend; you're pretty, funny, smart, and great to be around."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "But you don't want to date me?"

Harry frustratedly roughed his hair back. "No! That's not it."

"Then what on earth is 'it'?" Ginny finally appeared to be more puzzled than sad or exasperated. She refused to acknowledge that his statement had made it rather hard for her to breathe.

"It's that," Harry paused, "everything seems predestined. It's not that I don't like you, I think you're wonderful. Bloody hell, maybe I could even fall in love with you."

Ginny had been preparing to ask another question, but all was swept away as her mind froze at Harry's last words. "You what?" She instead asked softly, blinking furiously.

Harry immediately regretted saying that. For even though he could love her–he could–and though he felt the feeling raging in his chest like a monster, he couldn't risk it. Because maybe he was mistaken and his real desire was actually for his future self's family, whole and unobstructed. If his doubts were correct? He couldn't hurt Ginny like that. Instead, he sighed. "I'd like to date you but, but we know the future. It's like we don't have a choice in who we end up with. Like it's inevitable. I–damn it. I'm not saying it's a bad future; it's bloody well wonderful but–"

"But you want to have a choice." Ginny said quietly before pausing. Her breath had faded back to something resembling normal. "Harry, I had the same issue."

"You did?" Harry said, relieved that she hadn't misunderstood his doubts.

"Of course. I mean, I was dating Michael and suddenly found out I was going to marry and have three kids with my childhood crush?" She flushed at the end. "I'm not sure if I ever apologised for that, by the way. How did you put up with my fangirlness?"

Harry gave her a half-smile. "Don't apologise. In hindsight it was rather cute."

Ginny was still embarrassed but her blush lightened. "Anyway, I thought that it was some awful, ironic joke. That's why I was trying to avoid thinking about this whole mess at first."

He latched onto the subtle meaning. "_At first_? What changed?"

"I just," Ginny gulped, "this might sound silly."

Harry smiled. "I doubt it's as bad as my confession."

"It's just potentially humiliating." Ginny sighed. "I wished I could have the choice of who I ended up with returned to me. With you trying to go out with Cho, I thought there was no harm in continuing things off with Michael. Course, both of those relationships ended wonderfully. After that and 'the Kiss' I was stumped. The future knowledge muddled everything up. So I tried and ignore the time travellers' information and figure out who I actually fancied. It wasn't going to be for marriage or for life; it seemed like the best thing would be to ask out the boy I wanted to be with _right then_ so I could build my own fate. See? Silly."

Harry had been nodding throughout Ginny's explanation but abruptly stopped at the last. "You asked someone out? I didn't know that." He didn't contemplate why the thought of Ginny at Hogsmeade with another boy made the monster in his chest rise up in protest.

"That's because I didn't. I–I–oh Merlin." Ginny paused and took an unsteady breath before rushing on. "The same person always popped up. When I thought of bravery–it was you. Of 'chivalry'? You. Of a kind, smart, good looking boy who adores Quidditch? You, you, you, and you. It had nothing to do with the time travellers. Harry, I think I've been falling in love with you for years."

Amid the stunned halt of breath and sound and existence that Ginny's confession had produced, Harry's frazzled thoughts began to untangle themselves. Slowly, as though every knot and miscommunication was being pulled apart and dissected. Then in a brilliant instant, a sudden moment, everything made sense. It was all so bloody clear:

Parvati Patil was pretty, but Ginny's wide and windswept smile made her beautiful.

Hermione Granger was intelligent, but Ginny balanced humorous sarcasm with sparkling wit.

Cho Chang liked Quidditch, but Ginny came at the sport with a fiery passion. The same passion that Harry spotted in her whenever she shouted at her brothers, stood up for Luna, or used in a terrifying manner to force him out of a mood.

Suddenly, fate didn't matter anymore. It was irrelevent. Because Harry knew–looking at Ginny's burning eyes and slightly parted lips–exactly who he desired. His image of a perfect future wouldn't be complete, wouldn't be whole, and wouldn't be effortless without her.

"Harry?" She whispered, coming out of her reverie. Blinking around she paled and grabbed the invisibility cloak from the floor. "We should go. I'm sorry I-"

Harry didn't think. He didn't have to, for as Ginny began to throw the Cloak over them it was so easy to take a step forward, so simple to lock eyes with her confused gaze, and so utterly natural to pull her close into a soft kiss as the light, barely-there fabric loosely fell onto their forms.

He was surprised by the impulsive action, but thankful that Ginny was kissing him back rather than cursing him. Yet as he focused on her rosy lips with a lingering taste of chocolate, all else ebbed away. He watched as her shock likewise faded, eyes closing as she leaned closer, pressing her body to his as she wrapped her arms around his torso. And it hit him–but slowly, enveloping him with a warm glow: this was the change he had noticed, this explained why the time travellers now seemed incomplete without _Ginny_.

He lost track of how long they stood there. For several long moments–or it might have been half an hour–it didn't matter. For it was only the present: the feel of her lips, his shift to kissing her every freckle, his hands knotting up her long hair, and their embrace strengthening as they pushed each other against the corridor's wall.

Finally, after who knew how long, Harry vaguely noticed a choking sound from the corner. He twisted to look over Ginny's ear at the noise. There stood Professor Trelawney, sherry bottle in hand, staring dumbstruck down the corridor straight at them.

Trelawney's horrified gaze finally brought Harry to his senses. He forced himself to pull away from a resistant Ginny to peer down the hallway like the Professor, reaching for his wand. But there was nothing there, just darkness. He felt Ginny freeze next to him. Turning around, he followed her gaze back to the dumbstruck Divination teacher.

"STUDENTS–DEATH! THE GRIM THE GRIM THE GRIM! A CURSE IS UPON US! HEADS!" Trelawney shrieked, a-bout facing and flinging herself back down the hallway as the sherry bottle went flying. Harry and Ginny stared transfixed at the suddenly vacant corner, jaws agape.

"What just happened?" Ginny whispered, looking at the newly broken glass and seeping pool of alcohol by the opposite wall.

"I don't-" Harry began to say, before faltering when he saw Ginny's head and part of her neck suspended in midair. He raised his hands to his own throat and felt the invisibility cloak bunched up around his collar. "Oh, bloody hell."

Ginny looked at Harry at his groaned curse, but her eyes immediately widened in first shock, then realisation, then humour. She tried and failed to hold back a giggle. He twisted sideways and saw that his and Ginny's backs were entirely visible but facing the wall. He fought back a laugh for nothing could pull him from his euphoric mood. It was as though he was standing apart from the scene. All thoughts of dark magic were swept away; it was like he was living another person's life.

"So," Harry said drily, disentangling before properly throwing the cloak over them both, "will anyone believe that she saw our disembodied heads snogging?"

Ginny finally got a hold of her giggles. "The real question is, how will she react when she sees us alive and not bodiless tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Harry's smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. "I have double Divination! Oh, she's never going to stop her death predictions now."

"Thank Merlin I'm not taking that class." Ginny was more relieved than sympathetic, though her perking grin and bright eyes were returning in abundance. "I think I'll put off seeing Luna–the essay can wait. But Harry, next time you randomly snog me out after curfew, let me put the cloak on first. Imagine if McGonagall had caught us!"

"Or Snape." Harry said with a wince as they began making their way down the corridor–away from the direction Trelawney had frantically fled. They made their way slowly though, for they both knew that they had week, months ... ages. Whatever it was, a long walk in the castle seemed indicated, during which – if they had time – they might discuss the proper usage of broom cupboards and a certain invisibility cloak.

* * *

**A/N:** Because no snogging scene is complete without a Grim sighting. Confession time: I sorta-kinda-absolutely adore writing fluff. It's just so cute, sweet and syrupy! Even if it is Harry/Ginny. Merlin, I'm so thankful one of my friends hasn't found my fanfics yet. She'd take them as evidence she's converted me to the OTPs of canon ships (Just in case she does come across this: S, I still vote H's a dumb jock). So ladies and gents, any bets on how Gred and Forge will react to the 'boy-who-might-not-live-much-longer' snogging their baby sister?

p.s. I met JK Rowling. Just, you know, no biggie. A theory of mine was personally shot down by JK Rowling, and it's cool and wonderful and she's a supertotallyawesomeamazing person. Who spoke to me. For five seconds. I now own two books touched by JK Rowling. I have a video of her signing said books. The video's shaking and my voice is high and pitchy and my hero probably thought I was a lunatic and it would have been even worst if I'd had more time to do more of this:

_"OMG THANK YOU FOR MY CHILDHOOD!" With radish earrings flopping around, my camera pointed somewhere or other, and the huge Ravenclaw scarf flying back into the face of the next fan, I didn't care that I was hyperventilating as though a Crumple-Horned Snorkack was after me._

_"Thank you." JK Rowling smiled at me (OMGOMGOMGOMG) before signing both books in under a second (like a BOSS). Someone tried to push me away._

_"WAIT, WAIT PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE ONE QUESTION! DOES HOCUS POCUS CREATE HORCRUXES?!"_

_"No, it was a joke. Sorry."_

_" ... . THAT'S COOL I–" Seeing the approaching security I realised I didn't have time to let my hero know about the wrackspurts all around her head. Oh well, she'd probably figure it out sooner or later._

Oh, and Rowling told me (and the rest of the audience) that we shouldn't have sex near unicorns. She was also embarrassed by Thor's abs, complimented my friend's raccoon hat, wished to take control of the c-word, and failed to _accio_ her reading glasses.

My life is now complete. *hugs signed "Casual Vacancy" in a death grip, applying a permanent sticking charm while muttering, "I'll nevereverevereverever let you go. My _preeecciioouusss_."*

p.p.s. I met Harry and the Potters. Again, no biggie. At all. Nope, nuh-uh. My boyfriend and I were dressed as Voldy and Bella, and he might have jump-hugged a shocked Joe DeGeorge while screaming "Let's finish this the way it started: TOGETHER!"

So now I'm here, you know, chilling with my autographed books and videos of awesomeness, freaking the motherf****** out.


	28. Fury and Femininity

**A/N:** Yeah, like the Weasley Twins would let Harry date Ginny without any interference. Puh-leeze. They'd probably view their prank as a Weasley family initiation. So, if I were two overprotective brothers and genius pranksters with access to magic, how would I appropriately humiliate (but not _quite_ torture) the guy who was snogging my younger sister? With this, of course. But equally important, how would dear Luna put her spin on it?

This _so_ would have been canon if Harry and Ginny had gotten together while the twins were at Hogwarts. But maybe it's good that it didn't happen; I'd have died from helpless giggling if this had popped up in the sixth book–and to see it acted out in the movie! I'm sure Daniel Radcliffe would have had a blast...

An enormous thank you to my beta, spellmugwump97! Also, slight warning: though there is nothing even resembling 'explicit' in this chapter, a few things are implied. Still, everything was done for humorous rather than romantic purposes :D

**General Disclaimer:** If I was Rowling or any of the HP movie directors, the entire cast would have led a revolt against me and my horribly embarrassing plot twists. Said revolt would end with either me being defenestrated, or Rupert Grint handing out trumpets to everyone while I escaped in the mass confusion.

* * *

Hogwartians young and old alike had begun to equate the Great Hall with disturbances of massive quantities. Whether via announcements of trolls at-large, parseltongue revelations, macabre slumber parties, lightheaded temporary amnesia, endless pranks, or awkward public displays of affection, time and again the meals would be interrupted without a thought to ignoring the House Elves' well-prepared food (a thought which had luckily yet to occur to Hermione Granger).

With Hogwarts being Hogwarts, a betting pool had rapidly commenced.

"HEADMASTER!" Trelawney burst through the door this particular breakfast, her breath rapid, hair and shawls flying. "_Finally_. Where have you been?"

"Right here." Dumbledore twinkled as the Hall paused to watch this new dramatic entrance. "Were you trying to reach me last night? I'm afraid that I was away on business."

"IT'S THE STUDENTS!" She shrieked, cascading towards the other teachers. "Death, horror and–"

"Not that bloody Grim again." _Harry_ could just hear McGonagall mutter.

"_Yes!_" Sir Nicolas de Mimsy-Porpington did an uncharacteristic high five with a stunned Colin Creevey. As the youngster shivered from the cold, the ghost glided down the table to collect his winnings. "I meant–oh, how dreadful. But I did not need an 'Inner Eye' to see this. It was always going to be the Divination Professor. Or the butler." The Weasley twins exchanged a look, trying to determine how exactly they could give a transparent being material objects.

"MURDER!" Trelawney continued with tears in her eyes. "Harry Potter and–and Ginevra Weasley are, are–"

"Yes?" _Ginny_ raised an eyebrow.

"DEAD!" Came her last scream, which all but knocked off dust from the high rafters.

A horrified, bewildered silence spread. In the midst of this, Zacharias Smith gave a cheer and raced to Gryffindor Table to get his money. His enthusiasm lessened when he noticed the menacing stares from the Lions.

"Miss?" Heads spun to the next hesitant voice, and was met with the sight of Ginny Weasley–very much alive and struggling not to grin. Zacharias, meanwhile, hobbled back to Hufflepuff with bright neon green hair, tentacles for legs, and a surly scowl. "Unless I'm an inferi and don't know it. I'm fine. So is Harry." She gestured to the laughing dark-haired boy next to her. Trelawney's jaw dropped at the sight.

"But, but I saw your heads," she said faintly, pointing to the Gryffindors in shock, "I, what..."

"Sybill, could you explain what you saw?" Dumbledore said, pleasantly curious.

Trelawney shot another aghast look at the Lions. "Late last night I was walking on–patrol–and saw their _heads_ kissing. Just the heads! Hanging in mid-air with no bodies!"

A beat of stupefied silence.

"YES!" Lily jumped from her seat with a cheer.

"Finally." Al sighed as Jamie gave a relieved laugh. Everyone else stared until, realising they were being watched, the three paused.

"We aren't talking about the 'heads' thing." Jamie explained awkwardly to the bewildered Great hall. "No idea about that. Nope. Not at all. Just that–"

"–you're happy someone's snogging our sister?" Fred said nonchalantly, shooting a glance at the nervous Harry before nodding about something to George. Lee narrowed his eyes at the sight, wondering what the twins were up to and if he could get in on it.

Ron looked peaky as the Hall erupted into noise. "Seriously mate? Well, congrats I guess." Hermione had given him a proud glance before he finished with: "Course, if you hurt her I'll destroy whatever pieces of you she leaves left."

"Ron!" Hermione said before gleefully turning to the new couple. "Congratulations! How did it happen?"

Harry and Ginny exchanged a bewildered glance. "We never actually said anything _did_ happen."

"Details, details." Hermione started right back in on the questions. Everyone else continued to stare at the small group in incredulity while Harry and Ginny tried to decipher their friend's rapid words.

"What about the disembodied heads?" Neville, McGonagall and Draco muttered to themselves.

"Exhibitionists." Teddy whispered to his red godparents.

"Were they infected with nargles?" Luna thought absently.

Everyone considered it best that they could not decipher Trelawney's mutters and shrieks, and all were in wholehearted agreement that the silent Weasley twin language spelled even more trouble than Dumbledore's blinding twinkle. It was a shame none of them noticed their glance at the Ravenclaw Table.

* * *

Everyone was thus surprised that the next week passed with a fair amount of sanity. Sure, a small group of Gryffindors now practically lived in the library, the Parkers got up to their usual hijinks, and the new Hogwarts' Couple were making quite a few fangirls cry with their public displays of affection–but all in all, no new developments occurred. Classes continued, and as the forest began to trickle with rusty leaves all inhabitants of the castle began to think longingly of Hogsmeade and pipping hot butterbeer.

Of course, this being Hogwarts, no more than seven days could pass without a new adventure, live-or-death situation or, more likely than not, comic relief and juicy gossip. And since the _Daily Prophet_ was still too busy churning out rumours of a student army to bother with the latest news, it fell to the usual perpetrators to liven up the otherwise unremarkable lunch.

"Snape's out to get me." Ginny idly mentioned to her boyfriend, a copy of _The Quibbler_ propped up against her breakfast and glass. "I thought maybe it was just paranoia at first, but nope, he's evil incarnated. I'm shocked he hasn't poisoned me yet, it's been ages since he found out about us. Well, _us_ us." She squinted at the page, turning her head sideways. "Huh, Stubby Boardman really does resemble Sirius. Who'd have guessed?"

Harry groaned in reply. "I'm not even sure who's worst. Snape's gitness, Trelawney staring at me as though I'm about to imitate Nearly Headless Nick, or the blasted wankers who call themselves teachers!"

"Who?" Neville asked curiously, ignoring Ron's frantic shake of his head to shut up.

"The Parkers." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly Harry, they're just teasing you."

"By being bloody gits!"

"De-tach-ment." Ginny said in a sing-song voice, earning a glare from Harry. "Lighten up, they aren't that bad. Ignore them and read this about 'Sirius Black: The Great Singing Sensation'."

Ron snorted, twisting his head down to read the cover and main titles. "What's this? 'Nargle Infestation Predicted For December: Keep Your Mistletoe Close!' 'Exclusive Interview With Cassandra Hex: Niffler Whisperer.' 'Seer Predicts The Chudley Cannon's Scores On–' oh, huh." He grabbed _The Quibbler_ without further ado, ignoring his sister's yelp of protest since she, 'was reading that, you git!'

"Yeah yeah yeah, you'll get it back. Keep your knickers on." Ron flipped through Ginny's discarded magazine before his fingers froze, his face paling.

"Ron?" Harry looked over questioningly, his rant about the Parkers on the side-line. But before anyone could say anything more the redhead had stood up, magazine tightly clenched in his hand, and was huffing his way over to the Ravenclaw Table. Three Gryffindors looked at each other before taking their packs and following him curiously. Neville wisely decided to finish up breakfast and let the chaos reign without him.

"Luna!" Ron came up behind the blonde, flapping _The Quibbler_ around. "What is this?"

Luna blinked at him, nibbling on the end of a sugar quill. Because nutritious lunches were far overrated when one had a 'magical' metabolism. "It's daddy's journal. There's a lovely sketch of Snorkacks on page forty-two."

Ron groaned and flipped the magazine to a spread of orange Quidditch players whizzing about. "It's this rubbish prediction. 'The Cannons will be at the bottom of the league for another _twenty years_'? _The hell?_"

Luna finished the candy and pulled out another from a small bag. "Ronald, a prophecy wasn't needed to predict that." She sucked the quill noisily before snapping off the end. "At least the Tornados are doing rather good."

Ginny and Hermione stifled giggles at the look on the redhead's blustered face.

"Sugar quill?" Luna asked the Gryffindors, reaching into her bag and holding one out to Ron. Said boy actually waved the offered candy off, too distracted with his tirade on how Divination was rubbish and that the world was blind to the Cannons' inevitable comeback.

"No thank you, I'm full." Hermione declined the offered candy. Ginny thanked her and took one.

Harry shrugged. "Thanks Luna, cheers."

The blonde blinked at him before looking into her bag. "Oh drat, I'm out of quills. How about a cauldron cake instead?

Harry adjusted the pack on his shoulder, his mind on what travesty would happen in Potions later that day. "Sure, sounds great." He said, taking the chocolate from her outstretched hand.

This was when Hermione noticed the time and sharply paraded her munching or ranting friends out of the Great Hall.

"Hermione, it's a free period!" Ron exclaimed as they walked across the deserted Entrance Hall, finally stopping his diatribe about dratted seers to talk some sense into the bookworm. "Why would we go to the library now?"

"Honestly Ron," Hermione spoke as though she had repeated this a thousand times, "some of us don't like to put our _homework_ off to the last minute."

"We've already been through every _single_ book on the subject! Face it, there's nothing there on the Founders. I bet they gave us that 'task' to distract us." Ron said slowly, as though he was explaining basic addition to a small child. "Anyways, Harry and I were going to play Quidditch. Right mate?"

Harry nodded in agreement, popping Luna's cauldron cake into his mouth. He was about to ask Ginny if she wanted to join them when he paused, his body stiffening. His friends continued on for a few steps before noticing that he'd fallen behind.

"Mate?" Ron repeated, going back and waving a hand in front of his friend's glazed eyes. This didn't have the effect he had been hoping for. Instead of coming out of his trance, whatever had been supporting Harry disappeared altogether.

"Whoa!" Ron stepped forward, catching the suddenly unconscious boy-who-lived. The girls hurried over.

"Did he faint?" Ginny said in worry, cupping her boyfriend's pale face. "We have to get him to the hospital wing!"

"It couldn't be You Know Who, right?" Ron said, lowering him gingerly to the floor.

Hermione gasped. "The sweets!"

"What, Luna's?" Ginny said in disbelief, lightly shaking Harry to try and wake him. "But I had one too, and she would never..."

Ginny dwindled off. She and the others stared down at Harry as his body began to ripple as though he had taken polyjuice potion. Even with his features blurred and then contorted, they could see his hair lengthening and lightening, face and neck thinning, and his body shrinking as his clothes became looser–except for part of his shirt as the top buttons bulged outwards. One popped off completely, bouncing a few times on the floor before coming to a rest. It took a few moments for the rippling to subside, but once it did–

The three Gryffindors stared at their friend in amazed silence. That is, until Ron broke the pregnant pause by howling with laughter.

"Oh my." Hermione spoke faintly. "We, we have to get hi-Harry to hospital."

Ginny remained frozen, her mouth agape.

* * *

"Madam Pomfrey?"

Poppy Pomfrey looked up from her work, frowning as Ginny Weasley stood outlined in the doorway. "Yes, Miss Weasley? Is someone ill?"

"Yes, well, see-" the redhead hesitated, looking away from the office back into the hospital. Poppy could just make out a few voices–and raucous laughter–from the main room. What was going on out there? "-there was, there was..."

The teenager rocked slightly back and forth, toe to heel, opening and closing her mouth as words refused to come. Poppy held back a sigh and prepared to comfort a nervous patient, when she realised that the girl did not seem anxious at all. Poppy huffed. "Miss Weasley, if there is a problem why, might I ask, are you a moment from laughing?"

"I'm, I'm not." She struggled out before taking a few calming breaths. This marginally helped, but her highly amused grin stubbornly stayed. "It's not funny, really it's not. Not very much."

Poppy didn't bother holding back a sigh. Yes, she had an awful feeling about this. A boy's voice choking with laughter–Ronald Weasley's, she realised with dread–drifted out from the main hospital.

"Where is Creevey when you need him? No one got a picture of ferret Malfoy, we can't miss this!"

A second voice, this one female, hotly angry and unrecognisable to Poppy, answered. "If you come near me with a camera I-" But the threat abruptly ended with a barely discernible groan.

"It's not just your appearance?" Mr. Weasley said gleefully. "Oh Merlin, this is too good!"

A third voice–Hermione Granger's–spoke up. "Don't worry, and ignore Ron. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to reverse it. She's never failed before."

Poppy pressed a hand to her forehead. If Miss Granger and two Weasleys were in her Hospital Wing, there was only one person who was surely in trouble. "Miss Weasley, what is going on?"

"There-there was a prank-" the girl managed to get out before succumbing to giggles.

Without further ado, Poppy snatched up her wand and pulled her chair back from the desk. Her thoughts were weighted down with resignation for, not again. 'Of course it would be Mr. Potter. When was that boy not doing something extremely dangerous?' She swiftly moved from the room, followed by the teenager who had her hands over her mouth, covering her giggles. But Poppy paused as she surveyed the three students in the Hospital Wing. It was indeed Mr. Weasley who was laughing hysterically while Miss. Granger tried to restore the peace, but she didn't recognise the red-haired girl in the bed who was glaring daggers at the Weasley boy.

Poppy sped over, reassessing the situation as she went. Maybe she had misunderstood. Maybe it was Potter who had played the prank on the girl? She felt her breathing momentarily freeze at the thought of the boy embracing his father's Marauder side.

But the healer forced out a reassuring smile when she got to the bedside. Her patient was turned away from her, still ranting at Mr. Weasley. She looked to be fourteen, or maybe fifteen and petite. While her long, dark crimson hair hid most of her profile, Poppy could discern enough of her pale features–long straight nose, high cheekbones, and an overall impression of being quite pretty but too thin–to know that she had never seen this student before. Perhaps the girl was a visitor? But she was wearing a Hogwarts' uniform, even though–Poppy silently clicked her tongue–her shirt was dreadfully small, and it was clear she wasn't wearing any support. The healer couldn't believe the styles of some teenagers these days.

"My goodness, what have you lot done now?" Madam Pomfrey said, looking over the students. "I assumed that Mr. Potter was injured again."

"Harry," Miss Granger gulped, glancing at the girl who groaned, dropping her head to her hands, "Harry isn't injured. But, erm..."

After a few moments, it became clear that Miss Granger was as tongue-tied as Miss Weasley. While Poppy was struck by this strange occurrence she kept the reassuring smile in place and turned back to her distraught patient. "My dear, could you tell me what's wrong? I'm afraid I can't place you. Are you a student here?"

This proved to be too much for both the unknown girl and Mr. Weasley. While the latter all but fell from his seat laughing, the girl straightened up and narrowed her eyes at him, clearly promising retribution if he spoke.

"What's going on here?" Madam Pomfrey's smile rapidly faded with the ruckus of helpless male giggling, and the threat of violence from the seething red-haired girl. "Who are you, and Mr. Weasley, why are you acting like this?"

"Madam Pomfrey?" Miss Weasley spoke up from behind her, struggling to keep her expression as unamused as possible. "Harry was, well, I think my brothers or someone else pranked him with a spiked candy. Which he was stupid enough to eat."

"Oi!" The blushing girl turned her frustrated gaze from one Weasley to the other. "You took a candy too. If anyone but Luna had offered me a cauldron cake, I would have known right where to chuck it! Like I knew she was working with those berks."

"Mister-Potter?" Pomfrey blinked as the grumbling girl looked up at her with startlingly green eyes. Her gaze drifted upward to where a lightning bolt was just peeking out from behind curly red hair. "OH! Oh, I see? You do get yourself into ridiculous situations, don't you."

Mr. Weasley snorted, wiping away tears of mirth. "Yeah, we've been telling _her_ that for years."

The girl–_Mr. Potter_, Poppy reminded herself in blinking confusion–pounced on the redhead, grabbing his wand from him before he knew what was happening.

"Ah-" Mr. Weasley's laugh trailed off as the angry girl pointed a wand at his face, "-mate?"

"_One word_," the petite teenager spat out, "one picture, and you'll see just how 'hilarious' it is to switch genders!"

"Harry!" Miss Granger tugged her irritated, protesting friend back onto the bed. "There's no cameras and none of us will say anything."

Miss Granger snatched Mr. Weasley's wand from the pouting hand and, ignoring both of their sounds of disbelief, dropped it into her own pocket. "I don't trust either of you with this. Madam Pomfrey, can you change Harry back to himself?"

Poppy shook herself from her daze and, while she momentarily considered taking House Points, Potter was obviously under duress, and the situation had righted itself. So, sighing, she turned to her nervous patient and began casting diagnostic charms.

Ah. Poppy blinked at the results and retried the tests. The results remained the same the second time. And third. The teenagers began getting restless; Potter's expression was particularly arched with anxiety.

"Madam-" Miss Granger began hesitantly; Poppy quickly shook her head.

"I'm sorry that took so long." The Matron returned her gaze to Potter. "The potion isn't permanent. Unfortunately-"

The enchanted student grinned wildly, but frowned as Poppy hesitated on the last word.

"-you will have to wait for the effect to wear off. The potion used was complex and was mixed with various locking charms and a mild transfiguration. There will be no long-term effects, but there is also no easy fix."

Potter looked as though he had swallowed a lemon, or a dozen of the Headmaster's Sherbet flavoured sweets. "How long?" He asked in a feminine, high-pitched shriek, before wincing at the decibel. Mr. Weasley snorted.

Poppy suppressed her desire to shrug. She began to think she might actually take Sybill up on her offer of a mid-day sherry. "I would suspect at least a few days, though probably closer to a week."

"A WEEK?" Three of the teenagers cried; Potter in horrorstruck disbelief, Miss Weasley with a heartened groan, and Mr. Weasley in hilarity. Miss Granger glared at all of them for screaming in her ears.

"Can't anything be done?" Potter spoke desperately.

"I'm sorry." Poppy shook her head. "I'll have to consult with Professor Snape, but any spell or potion to further change or mask your appearance would likely interact with the potion already in your system."

Seeing the petite girl's expression transform from terror to rage, Poppy felt it wise to call in more reinforcements so that Potter wouldn't go on a homicidal rampage while declaring an all-out prank war.

Oh Merlin, it would be a miracle if Hogwarts was left standing at the end.

* * *

"_Nothing Pomfrey can do_?" Harry's voice dripped with vehemence, but Ron felt that the effect was somewhat diluted by his friend's high-pitched voice, the new, bouncy additions to 'her' chest, and the way the rant paused every few seconds so that 'she' could irritatingly brush back unruly long hair.

Ron swallowed another very manly giggle. Who knew pronouns could be so funny?

"Oh honestly!" Hermione huffed after the tenth time this happened. She opened her bag, searched around for a moment, before handing a hairband to Harry. "Just use this, and you can't do that to the twins. Even with magic it would be anatomically impossible."

"Yeah yeah." Harry grumbled, looking at the hairband in confusion. "Wait, Hermione-"

Ginny bit in her amusement. "Pull your hair to the back of your head and knot the band around it to make a ponytail. I could do it for you before heading to Charms?"

Harry still looked incredulous, but shook his head and gingerly followed Ginny's instructions. After a few attempts, he finally managed a messy knot. Hermione hesitated and seemed on the verge of saying something, but just shared a look with Ginny. Now unobstructed by distracting hair, Harry started back in on his plots for revenge with a new vigour as the three headed to the dungeons, their 'free period' having almost ended and the break just beginning as students slowly ambled out of classrooms. Ron knew the only reason Harry wasn't completely freaking out at that fact was because no one could recognise him. He thoroughly predicted they'd have to force him into class.

"-those PRATS! Dosing them with veritaserum wouldn't be enough. Turning them into Veela? Maybe, is that possible? I could ask Fleur-wait, love potions. That's it! Set it for Snape or Filch. Or BOTH! They'll never..."

Ron blinked, noticing that Harry had drifted off. Turning, he saw his eyes narrow at the hall in front of them as he pulled out his wand. Ron followed his friend's gaze and only just managed to stop his burst of laughter when he realised who was chatting ahead, oblivious to their presence. Harry used a quiet _sonorous_ on himself before silently approaching the group. Ginny, Ron and Hermione following a step behind.

Al and Lily, spotting the four approaching students, did a double-take when they noticed Harry. Al froze but Lily started giggling helplessly. The other members of their group were too busy talking to notice their reactions. Coming up right behind the twins, Harry raised his holly wand to their backs and took a deep breath. Ron just had time to cover his ears before all hell broke lose.

"WHAT ARE YOU IDIOTS PLAYING AT!" The female voice shrieked, rattling the window panes and making the Weasley Twins and James jump in fright before spinning around.

"Harry?" Fred started to laugh but was interrupted.

"Hilarious, really bloody funny." Harry spoke in a venomous whisper, which still pierced Ron's ears because of the _sonorous_. "Turn me back RIGHT NOW, or I'll permanently vanish a few appendages of yours!"

Fred and George quickly backed away. Ron took a moment to appreciate how his friend could make a petite, seemingly innocent girl utterly terrifying. Harry was practically radiating anger and he didn't even want to guess which curses he was an inch away from throwing.

"Funny thing about that." Fred somehow hardly winced as Harry's glare turned to him. George took a few precautionary steps away from his brother. "See, the potion we used lasts a week. No counter. The least you deserved for corrupting our innocent sister! But look on the bright side: you do make one ridiculously hot bird–"

As Fred began to, also, shriek like a girl as he hopped around dodging Harry's spells, Ron wondered whether it was Gryffindor bravery, or sheer unbelievable idiocy that had compelled his brother to say that. Still though, it was bloody hilarious. He fell back into laughter once it was clear his best friend was thoroughly distracted.

Hermione was too busy holding back her own giggles to properly lecture.

* * *

Professor Snape paused in his opening lecture at the muffled voices from outside his door.

"–not going–"

"Come on mate, I know it'll be awful but just–"

"NO!"

"Stop being stubborn! We're late and–"

With a sneer and casual wave of his wand, Snape opened the door with a _bang_. Another flick and the 'Golden Trio' was tumbling into the room. Except that these were not the three tardy students he had been expecting. Though there was Weasley and Granger, accompanying them was a disheveled, petite redhead. Potter was nowhere to be seen.

"Professor?" Granger scrambled up, her face flushed brightly. "We have a note from Madam Pomfrey and–"

"Five points each from Gryffindor for your lateness, Granger, Weasley." Snape spoke idly as the latter growled. "Who are you and where's Potter? Let me guess, he got distracted with an autograph signing and will be 'fashionably late'." The unknown student blushed, glaring at him. But whatever angry retort the girl had was lost when Snape caught sight of her face–he didn't bother hiding his gape.

The girl was the spitting image of Lily Evans: the indignant fire in her green eyes, flaming dark red hair, chiseled nose and … and … Merlin. He swayed slightly, putting his hand back to support himself against the desk.

"Harry!" Granger lectured. Snape came back to reality with the name, for she was saying it to the girl and––oh hell.

"_Potter_!" The Potions Master hissed, more furious than any but the Marauders had seen him. "_What the hell are you doing?_"

"I," the Lily Evans' look-alike's anger fled when faced with this fury, "it was a prank, the stupid twins–"

"Stop this disruption. Sit. Down!" Snape shouted before pointing at the seats and bewildered majority of the class. "_Fifty points from Gryffindor!_"

"What!" The Golden Trio (and the rest of the Lions) yelped as one. The Slytherins smirked through their bewilderment.

"Either for sheer stupidity for falling for a 'prank', or for disrespecting the dead." The Professor snarled, not amused in the least.

Weasley blinked, torn between outrage and confusion. "...disrespecting the dead?"

Snape's sneer increased. All would later swear the room's temperature fell like plummeting ice. "Apparently Potter must always be a clone of one parent or the other. SEATS! NOW! Or it will be another hundred points!"

The trio hurried to their places with squeaks after that. Though the lesson went on, Snape's ensuing headache gained more strength whenever he caught that brat Potter staring at him, the blasted green eyes brimming over with dozens of questions.

Just like his mother, indeed. Perhaps Dumbledore had a point after all.

Or actually, screw them all. It made life far simpler.

* * *

_Harry,_ _Ginny_ and Teddy were having a calm dinner. None of them could quite believe this, but decided to go with the flow and enjoy the laid-back conversation. With their plans for later this evening, a bit of tranquility before the storm was welcoming. However, hearing whispers begin to ripple around the Hall, the three of them gave each other knowing looks.

"Two galleons that it's the twins and Jamie." _Harry_ whispered as they surveyed the room, looking for the disruption.

"Nah, it'll be Al and Lils." Teddy whispered back, looking at the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs to try to spot any pink hair or polka-dotted skin.

_Ginny_ snorted. "Two galleons that the 'Golden Trio' have been on another adventure."

_Harry_ grinned. "It was pretty quiet for a few months, so I know it must be a … a …" He dwindled off as his gaze spotted the group at the Gryffindor Table. " … a prank. Oh Merlin."

_Ginny_ looked at him curiously, having not spotted anything out of place. "What then, it's a prank? Why're you disappointed, you probably won. Henry? _Henry_?" She nudged her husband, who was staring at the Hall with his mouth dropped open.

"Um, Jenny?" Teddy touched her shoulder and pointed to the Gryffindors. He barely managed covering up a chuckle. "I think that's the problem."

She looked curiously over, but still didn't see anything unusual. There was Ron, who was laughing at something, Hermione, who was hitting her 'not-really-boyfriend' with a spoon, and _Ginny_'s younger self who watched the bickering while whispering to another red-haired girl beside her. She squinted to try and recognise this last girl, but she had just turned away from the Staff Table.

_Ginny_ watched as Ron renewed his laughter about something or other, and younger Ginny and the unknown girl jerked their heads in his direction with dark glares. With the change of position, _Ginny_ could now see that the girl was pretty, especially with green eyes which oddly reminded her of her husband's and Al's. Yet she still couldn't place her, which was odd since the petite teenager was wearing Gryffindor colours.

Younger Ginny began shouting at her chuckling brother and _Ginny_ could just discern the words over the Great Hall's noise.

"-you MORON! You're siding with the _twins_? DID YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM?" The surrounding students began to hush and turn to watch the show. Ron said something in a placating voice but younger Ginny would clearly have none of it.

"YOU ARE SO DENSE! I LOVE HARRY, YOU BLOODY GIT. NO, I WOULDN'T MIND DOING THIS!"

The steaming Ginny turned to the unknown red-haired girl next to her and, without a pause, pulled her into a kiss. The other girl looked surprised for a second, before shrugging and embracing Ginny closer to her as the snog deepened. Ron seemed beyond mortified but Hermione finally gave way to laughter.

"YES!" Lily gleefully cried out, breaking the Hall out of its stunned silence. "I WON THE POOL! See Al, told you Ron and Hermione wouldn't snog here first."

"Yeah, rub it in." Al huffed, avoiding looking at the couple in question.

_Ginny_ merely gaped at the scene for a pregnant pause, before turning to her husband in panicked disbelief. "I-I swear I'm straight. I have no idea what-"

"Jenny?" Teddy laughed while _Harry_ was still frozen in horror. "Look at the _girl_'s forehead."

_Ginny_, fighting back a blush, reluctantly returned her gaze to the snogging couple, who had stopped but were still eliciting catcalls from around the Great Hall. _Why would Teddy want me to look at her forehead?_ She wondered in embarrassment. _There's just a lot of curly hair and,'_ she squinted, '_a scar, but that's–_

Her brain caught up to her thoughts and realisation sunk in. She leaned against her still-shocked husband in shock. Though like many before her, she quickly gave way to helpless giggles.

"MISS WEASLEY!" Stormed Professor McGonagall. The two teenagers finished untangled themselves as the teacher marched over. "Such a display is completely inappropriate! Who is this?"

The girls, though clearly wishing to hide beneath the table, turned to the Deputy Headmistress–having finished a silent discussion by staring at each other.

"I'm sorry," Ginny finally spoke**,** "this was my fault. My brothers were trying to ruin my love life–again–and I wanted to prove a point."

"Ruin _your_ love life?" Her partner turned to Ginny in disbelief, embarrassment disappearing instantly. "How about _my_ bloody _life_?"

Ginny shrugged apologetically. "I have six older brothers. You knew what you were getting into."

"No, no, I did _not_ know what I was getting into!" The incensed student pulled at the long hair in exasperation. "I expected threats or a few curses. I didn't expect to be turned into the blasted _girl-who-lived_!" The last three words were spoken with clear distaste.

Ginny patted his hand reassuringly. "It will only last a week, Harry."

"YES!" Angelina Johnson screamed, pouncing up to fist-bump an equally ecstatic Katie Bell. "Whoops, sorry Harry. But we won the pool! Er, also! Where are those twins?"

"They're indisposed." Lily waved it off. "I need to find them later too."

"_Potter_?" McGonagall asked faintly, the premise of this small conversation not registering in the midst of the greater insanity.

The red-haired 'girl' smiled humourlessly. "In the flesh."

"Well, most of you." Ginny commented helpfully, twirling a bit of the other's hair around her finger.

Harry swiped her hand away. "Thanks for the reminder." He grumbled, looking down mournfully. "Merlin, I should have hexed them more."

McGonagall rubbed her forehead plaintively, still in shock. "Potter, have you seen Madam Pomfrey? Who exactly did you hex?"

"Pomfrey couldn't do anything, and they cursed me first!" Outraged, Harry pointed at himself. "See? I absolutely had just cause."

"We know, we know." Ginny pulled Harry's hands back down. "But you can't murder my brothers."

He huffed, disagreeing with Ginny's statement. "Fine, but I'm still using a severing charm on their-"

"MISTER POTTER!" McGonagall cried. "I don't care what prank was pulled on you. You are not going to disfigure anybody!"

"An eye for an eye." He muttered, crossing his arms. Many of the boys around the Great Hall nodded in shuddering agreement.

"Harry," Ginny spoke as though she was calming a toddler mid-tantrum, "yes, the twins are gits. But they didn't disfigure you."

Harry looked at her in disbelief, his mouth falling open. The other males in the Hall gave the redhead similar incredulous looks. In response, Ginny rolled her eyes. "Permanently disfiguring and temporarily switching genders are very different things. Anyway, you're still a great kisser–"

"Ginny!" Ron cried, blinking in horror.

"–and if you're 'Harriet' for a week," she smirked, "we can get back at my brothers in more interesting ways than just pranking them."

Harry eyed Ginny apprehensively. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I don't know," she hemmed amid Ron's background fussing, "I'm sure we can think of _some_ way to traumatise them. I'm up for a bit of experimentation if it means mentally scarring my prats of brothers. Maybe we can get Luna to join us?"

The blonde perked up at the Ravenclaw Table, along with most of the guys around the room. Some of the Gryffindors (at least the ones not cheering and cat-calling) had the opposite reaction: McGonagall had frozen and appeared too shocked to even take away House Points, Ron was hyperventilating, and both Hermione and Neville stared with jaws gaping wide as Harry returned the kiss, pulling his hands through Ginny's fiery red hair. No one was as shocked with the kiss itself than with the Gryffindors' nerve to do so right in front of the Deputy Headmistress. Needless to say, many of the stereotypes concerning the Lions' reckless behaviour was proven correct that day.

As Ginny climbed into Harry's lap without breaking the kiss, James, Al and Lily stared at their past parents in absolute mortification. _Ginny_, _Harry_, and Teddy weren't doing much better.

"Please wipe my memory when this is over?" _Harry_ whispered in his wife's ear as they watched McGonagall scream at the two teenagers. "Oh dear God, the hell?"

"WEASLEY, GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF–DETENTION! FOR A WEEK! A MONTH! FOR BOTH OF YOU! POTTER, DO NOT PUT YOUR-"

Teddy shook his head in stunned disbelief. "Were you both dosed with Amortentia? Confundus charms? Merlin, bloody _imperios_?" He muttered quietly to his godparents, only half joking. Still, he kept his eyes locked on the chaotic scene–determined to have a pristine memory for Pensieve blackmail.

Jamie began hitting his head on the table to try and get the scarring image out of his head. "Them snogging privately is bad enough." He muttered. "Why did I suggest this to the twins? Of course they would be bloody exhibitionists."

Al sniggered at his brother's words, even while he too kept his eyes averted from the sight of his past parents. But the snogging couple suddenly froze in shock as they looked across the table at their future kids.

Jamie, realising that the noise had stopped, looked up hopefully. But what met his eyes was his parents wrapped around each other; hair and shirts askew, Ginny straddling Harry with her left foot half-way in the porridge on the table, and both students staring directly at him with narrowing eyes. He paused, looked behind him in confusion, before recollecting what he had just said.

"Ah, what I meant was-" He dwindled off as he met his past dad's furious gaze. "-Merlin, even as a girl you have the 'I-am-so-disappointed-and-angry-at-you' face down!"

Teddy sighed at his god-brother's stupidity. Harry tried to disentangle himself while grabbing for his wand, but Ginny managed to get it first and threw it to Hermione, who had finally come out of her stunned state.

"Don't curse James." Ginny said plaintively, tugging her shirt into place while she slid back into her seat. She brushed the lunch off of her shoe. "My brothers are one thing, but–" her voice petered off as she had to hold him back, which was harder than it appeared considering the scrambling body was rather small. The redhead huffed, grabbing Harry around the waist with a better grip, "–stop fighting me! Merlin, calm down."

Harry turned around incredulously, which was awkward since his limbs were still tangled with Ginny's. "How am I supposed to react?" He gritted out, sneaking a glare at a paling Jamie.

"You _aren't_ supposed to overreact and try to curse everyone." Ginny spoke, still clutching Harry to her tightly.

He rolled his eyes, still attempting to break free of Ginny's hold. "Yeah, sure. What would you do if someone turned you into a bloke?"

"I expect I'd find something to keep me busy." Ginny said without thinking, struggling to keep her squirming boyfriend from jumping on Jamie. Ron and the male Parker kids reddened dramatically. Lily frowned in confusion. Harry stopped trying to escape, twisting around to stare at Ginny in disbelief.

"What?" She said, confused as to the incredulous gazes. She looked around to ask Hermione, but the older girl was too busy laughing to answer either her's or Lily's questioning stares.

"I-I think I'll pass on that Gin." Harry stammered, looking down at his chest while his flush deepened.

"What?" Ginny repeated, but after a few moments her thoughts caught up to the situation. "Oh, _OH_." She blushed heavily. "I didn't mean that! I, I meant–something other than cursing half the school!"

* * *

One dinner later saw our Gryffindor heroes trudging up to the Common Room, their expressions tugged between hilarity and horror. Harry and Ginny could hardly look at each, their 'devil-may-care' attitudes having given way to stunned mortification. The knowledge of the lost House Points and month's worth of detentions hadn't even dawned on them in light of everything else.

"I can't believe you did that." Hermione groaned, while her lips were still smudged upward in amusement. "You are both in so much trouble!"

"I know," Ginny said disbelievingly, pushing her shaking hand through her hair, "it was like my inhibitions just flew out the window! Not that I mind kissing you," she quickly reassured Harry, "but in front of McGonagall and the entire school?"

"Don't worry," Harry looked similarly shocked, "I don't get it either. Just doing that in front of the Gryffindors would have been too much! What the hell got into us?"

"Amortentia." Luna said simply, skipped up to them, outpacing them by a few steps. She turned back to look questioningly at the others in realising they had stopped walking and were staring at her. "What? Is there a Wrackspurt on me?" She began flapping her arms about, spinning in place.

"Amortentia?" Harry asked faintly. "What are you talking about?"

The blonde stopped her circling, and returned to blinking dreamily, looking at Harry as though the answer was obvious. "I wanted to help Jamie but I didn't want to accidentally break you two up."

Ginny rubbed her eyes. "What does this have to do with amortentia?"

"Just a few drops of it, not much at all. Jamie gave me the dosed cauldron cake from the Weasley twins," Luna said slowly, "and I spiked that and the sugar quills with love potion."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, and back to Luna aghast. "You did what?" Hermione asked faintly while the others were too stunned to speak.

Luna blinked again. "I thought the prank sounded funny and I was curious how Harry would look–by the way, you make a very nice girl Harriet–but I didn't want it to negatively affect your relationship."

"So you made us snog in the Great Hall?" Harry said, rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"I didn't make you. It was a mild love potion–just enough to lower your inhibitions." Luna smiled. "Ginny, I expect your brothers learned a lesson."

Ginny couldn't help but grin, even while a deep flush covered her cheeks. "I'll give you that. I think we scarred them and most of the Great Hall for life."

Hermione snorted in amusement. "Except for the boys, who will no doubt remember this fondly."

"Hermione," Ron moaned, "why'd you have to say that? Ugh, horrible mental pictures. Where's Lockhart when you need him?"

"I was just stating a fact." The prefect rolled her eyes before smirking uncharacteristically. "Imagine that two random girls suddenly started snogging in the Great Hall. How would you react?"

Harry's blush deepened. "You're evil. Not even brilliant–terrifyingly scary."

* * *

"This is a terrible idea."

"Shush. You'll do great."

_Harry_ eyed the fidgeting students in trepidation. "They're going to hex me. Without hesitation and with no mercy."

"They'll understand." _Ginny _said encouragingly while shoving him further out onto the platform the Room of Requirement had provided. "Remember, we agreed this was the best idea."

"Yeah." Looking at the small crowd of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, he was starting to rethink this decision. "Maybe, maybe we can just explain without taking off the memory charms–"

"Henry," she said warningly, "let's start the meeting." Thus with one last push he was stumbling forward. The entire room hushed as he went.

"Ah, hi." _Harry_ said with fake brightness. Nobody bought it. "Nice to see you all here for this–extra credit meeting. But well, that was a bit of a lie. Not a 'lie' so much as a fib. A white lie. A lie of exclusion? A–"

"Just take off the damn charms." _Ginny_ muttered from behind him.

_Harry_ hesitated. "Maybe I should explain it another way. I'm about to do a spell which will take away small, itty bitty memory charms which were on all of you." His voice raised to shout over the sweltering protest. "Just hear us out and repress any urge to hex us, all right?"

With that and a wave of the Elder Wand, a golden mist swirled around the air before floating down to the students. Said students blinked, shook their heads, looked at the adults in disbelief, and then the explosion went off.

"YES!" Padma Patil shrieked, pounding her hand in the air. Her sister and Lavender Brown skidded away from her. "I knew it. _I knew it!_ WHOO!"

"Of course it's Ginny Weasley." Cho Chang groaned, leaning against the wall. "Why am I even surprised. Damn it–a memory charm? A _dozen_ memory charms? Salt in the wound!"

Dean rubbed his head. "Wait, Harry knew? Course he did, and Ron too–wait, why'd they tell Neville and not me?" He stared up accusingly at his old friend. "So not cool, mate. Not cool! _Twenty_ blasted memory charms? Really? What're you playing at!"

"Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my God–" Colin Creevey kept up a rapid chant while his brother Dennis excitedly shrieked: "_Harry Potter_ was my teacher! I got an E on an essay from _Harry Potter!_ _Harry Potter taught me about Grindylows!_"

Lee Jordan just blinked rapidly before groaning. "The ultimate prank and I wasn't in on it. Figures. I'm going to kill the twins."

All of the Ravenclaws (sans a still cheering Padma) had long since formed a circle to figure out if time travel of this caliber was possible and–if it was–what its implications would be. Oh, and to compare retaliatory curses for even daring to interfere with their thought processes. The Hufflepuffs were comparing notes about what their separate memory charmed moments had revealed.

Angelina, Katie and Alicia had likewise grouped together, and were shifting from sending _Ginny_ cursory looks (having now remembered various hints about her Harpy days) to glaring at _Harry_.

"So no curses then." Teddy barely got out from his chuckles as his godfather finally began to relax. He figured he would probably never stop laughing. "Priceless. Totally amazing. But I can't believe I lost the bet to Al: I was _sure_ someone was going to try and hex us."

"Ohhh." Padma finally stopped her cheering to stare at them wide eyed. "Holy Merlin, your kids! You have kids! They're utterly insane!"

"No, they're–" _Harry_ and _Ginny_ began their token protest before, realising its futility, hopelessly shrugged before pointing at each other. "It's his/her fault."

Lee sniggered. "No wonder Fred and George have basically adopted Jamie. With parents like these he has to be a wunderkind. Wait a sec–aren't Al and Lily actually Slytherins?" Their parents exchanged a nervous look, but Lee hadn't finished. "Not that it matters but, Christ, this now makes so much more sense."

"That bloody Triplet scene!" Angelina suddenly shouted, glancing around the room as though expecting Fred, George and Jamie to jump out from the woodwork. "I'm going to kill them."

"Not before I do." Lee gave a terrifying grin which oddly fit his boyish demeanour.

"Oh my God." Lavender clapped her hands to her mouth. "That's why they keep giving me dark looks. You don't think they heard–" she turned to the older Harry with an apologetic yet inquisitive look, "–is all that stuff about You Know Who true? It, it can't be but, but at the Welcoming Feast..."

"Yes, Voldemort is back." A dark shadow fell over _Harry_'s expression as gasps resounded throughout the room. "You should all remember the Feast now? Good, so I hope everyone believes that we are who we say we are?" Not a hush was heard. He sighed before continuing in a softer tone. "If you don't want to believe that Voldemort–oh come on, it's just a name–is still alive, then fine. We were only transported back in time because of an accident, but as long as we're here we will do everything in our power to stop the war from occurring."

"War?" Cho asked in a hushed voice.

"Yes, the Second War." Teddy took up the story. "In our original timeline it lasted from 1995 until 1997. While the Death Eaters were finally beaten many on our side die–died." Only a few people noticed his choke. "Voldemort was able to rise to power and begin to round up and 'eliminate' muggleborns in a way similar to the muggle Holocaust."

_Ginny_ sent him a sympathetic look before returning her gaze to the students. "Don't get us wrong, the future is a good one. But we think we might be able to change it for the better."

"That would create a paradox." Padma pointed out, frowning in worry. "If you change the future then you and your children will cease existing–"

"The Department of Mysteries sent me back after my family." _Ginny_ explained. "They told me about a loophole we could exploit. Though the Ministry wasn't happy about it, they said that if we did have to change things then we'd likely be making an alternate timeline. Because we have an anchor from our actual home, we should be able to get back eventually–it doesn't matter what we change."

Lee waved the explanation away. "That's well and good, but what the hell are we supposed to do? Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy to have my memories back, but if you were going to return them why'd you bother wiping our memories in the first place?"

_Harry_ humourlessly chuckled. "Because all of you are far too observant. Since the Welcoming Feast we've been having to do memory charms right and left. We figured that, if each of you lot are able to figure out our secret in the span of a month or so no less than ten times each, we might as well drop all pretences."

Most of the students looked annoyed at the memory charms, but even more of them seemed ready to grudgingly accept that they had been necessary. Angelina–though still highly irritated and clutching her wand longingly–took up Lee's questioning. "That still doesn't answer what _we're_ supposed to do. You drop, 'We're time travellers here to stop a future war!' onto our laps and expect us to go back to class like nothing's wrong?"

Hushed whispers of agreement twirled around the room. _Ginny_ looked contemplative. "That's a good point. The other students who know are working on research projects; you can talk to them about the details. Apart from that, I suppose you should keep an eye out for anything unusual and–"

"What about the army?" Cho Chang interrupted, a new glint in her eye. "'Dumbledore's 'Army of Students' that the _Prophet_'s been prattling on about."

Teddy smirked as though from an inside joke, even while he shook his head in the negative. "Nothing to it, just rumours."

"But it _could_ be real." Cho pressed on, stepping forward. "We could learn to fight! If this war does happen we'd be prepared. Even if it doesn't, you never know what could happen. Look at Ced–" her voice quavered before steadily pressing on, "–Cedric. You're good teachers but we should do everything we can to practice. What about extra lessons? An extracurricular activity?"

"Hear Hear!" Ernie Macmillian agreed pompously. A swell of similar noises filtered out from the crowd. _Ginny_ and Teddy sent a flabbergasted _Harry_ amused looks.

"Isn't this familiar." _Ginny_ whispered before turning back to the waiting group. "That's a wonderful idea. Unfortunately, the three of us are overloaded with work for classes and–side projects. _But_," she sent her husband an evil grin as his stomach plummeted, "I think I know the perfect teacher for you. He might require a bit of persuasion, but I'm sure all of you can handle it. After all," her grin became practically predatory, mirroring her prankster brothers, "what's one teenager against a few dozen determined students?"

* * *

**A/N:** Fine, fine! I admit it: I utterly adore terrible fanfic clichés. While the grammar is almost always lacking, I'm hooked on the deaged, love potion/veritaserum-drenched, simply scandalous shipping, gender benders and, yes, even Mary Sue guilty pleasure fics. So I really wanted to include some of them in the story.

Please don't _avada kedavra_ me! I promise not to go way too overboard. Erm, much. Maybe. Possibly.

Also guys, I'm a wee bit worried that my story's going off on tangents. Please review to let me know what you'd like to see :D


	29. Governments and Genies

**A/N:** I am so, so sorry! My dissertation and exams combined with new obsessions for 'Doctor Who', 'Arrested Development', and 'Iron Man 3'. This resulted in my time being torn between uni work and excitedly (stupidly) working on new fics instead of updating old ones. Because I have no impulse control or self-restraint. Moral of the story: I have to stop making promises to update quickly *headdesk*

Good news? Extensive exam revision of British politics formed together to create this chapter. For anyone familiar with the Fox-North Coalition, that was my main muse! Though pretty much all the details were changed, so it's not actually relevant in the least.

**General Disclaimer:** If I was J.K. Rowling, you'd be waiting YEARS between updates. Nuh-uh, don't point out that each of her 'updates' were full-length novels so well-written and richly plotted that they redefined the terms of international best-sellers! I want to bask is my newest, glorious excuse for a bit longer.

* * *

THE DAILY PROPHET, 27 December 2019

CONTINUED MINISTERIAL SILENCE: THE POTTER-WEASLEY DAYS ARE NUMBERED

By Cassandra Hex, Chief Political Correspondent

Yesterday's 'Parkinson Protest' rally on the Ministry of Magic marked the four month anniversary of the Potter family's disappearance. Last August, no one could have dreamed that today's widespread upheaval amid strident criticism of the Potter-Weasley coalition could be possible, but the loss of Head Auror Harry Potter proved to be more than enough to tilt the formerly stable political forum on its head. Within this ambiguity concerning the direction of our nation, many have leapt to fill the void of power which the aforementioned faction previously monopolised with ease. Leading this attack has been the right wing Parkinson-Goyle faction, a coalition likewise marked by controversy since the Goyle family replaced the Malfoys when the latter sided with their previous rivals on the left. But while the liberal faction Potter-Weasley remains in tenuous power due in part to their close relationship with Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, Parkinson-Goyle has successfully challenged their tight hold over the Wizengamot and public opinion—both of which were only possible due to the fatal absence of 'Potter' from 'Potter-Weasley'.

To mark this anniversary and the turning point between today's political ambiguity and the likely destruction of the so-called Potter-Weasley faction in the New Year, we will endeavour to outline the incredible events that have turned our society on its head. It all began, as best we can discover, within the last week of August 2019. This uncertainty with the date was the first sign of the Ministry's highly unpopular policy of holding back information concerning the possible abduction of the famous Harry Potter, his godson (Theodore (Teddy) Lupin), and his children (James, Albus (Al), and Lily Potter). The oldest Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin, Head Auror and Junior Auror, were last seen at the Ministry, though this is only known through eye-witness reports thanks to Minister Shacklebolt's refusal to be forthcoming.

News broke of their vanishing with Ginevra (Ginny) Potter née Weasley's sorrowful announcement of her family's disappearance, where she went on to state that everything was being done to bring them home and requested that they be given privacy. Her brother and sister-in-law, Ronald (Ron) Weasley and Hermione Granger-Weasley née Granger, were in attendance to offer support. As the weeks passed with no further news Mrs. Potter all but disappeared from the public's eye, and the few sightings of her haggard appearance aroused outcries of sympathy and speculation of self-destructive tendencies. These rumours only multiplied when she took a leave of absence from her work here at the _Prophet_. The situation until then had been viewed with stagnant shock at the vanishing of the Man Who Conquered and much of his family, but aside from criticism at the lack of information the political sphere largely waited to see what would occur. Gossip that the Potters had been kidnapped and were possibly dead swirled, but the latter was the only suspicion the otherwise tight-lipped Ministry refuted.

"We believe the Potters are safe and unharmed." Minister Shacklebolt said during a notable statement in September where he 'temporarily' turned over leadership of the aurors to the Interim Head Auror, Ron Weasley. "We are doing everything possible to get them back, and ask for your patience. This case is ongoing and, in accordance with Ministerial policy, the details remain confidential. We assure you that the public is in no danger and there is certainly no need to panic. The Ministry and myself once again offer any assistance we can to the family, and ask that their wish for privacy during this trying time is respected."

In those early days, the reestablishment of power was enough to halt most speculation. But that rapidly changed come October. Calling a press conference in the Ministry's Atrium, Hermione Granger-Weasley (a third of the famous 'Golden Trio' with her husband Ron Weasley and brother-in-law Harry Potter) the Head of Magical Law Enforcement appeared, looking drained. She announced that significant progress had been made to find the Potters, but still refused to say what had occurred in the first place. Then, in a statement which she must still highly regret, she explained the 'progress' was that someone had been sent after them: Ginny Potter.

Wizarding Britain erupted once more with sympathy for the Potters and fury over the Ministry, both for their refusal to share pertinent information and for—to all appearances—sending an unhealthy, likely widower on a dangerous mission better suited to aurors. Criticism grew even further as, coinciding with this announcement, a wave of criminal activity hit everywhere from Inverness' Sure Loch to London's Diagon Alley. The nation as one questioned the Ministry's competence, and though some argued that the rise of crime was largely due to the absence of Mr. Potter (with his fearsome reputation to budding and hardened criminals alike), others missed his policies and claimed that the current Auror Force under Mr. Weasley was, at best, fatally outnumbered, and at worst hopelessly corrupt.

Minister Shacklebolt, Head of Magical Law Enforcement Granger-Weasley, Interim Head Auror Ron Weasley, and Senior Undersecretary Percy Weasley (brother-in-law to Mr. Potter and Mrs. Granger-Weasley) did spouts of interviews to attempt to reign in the situation. But instead, their appearances together multiplied the problems by cementing public claims of nepotism (something that had never truly risen with Mr. Potter, given his clear passion and reputation as a selfless saviour). This was somewhat abided by Draco Malfoy's surprising schism from his former faction to support the Weasleys, yet whatever goodwill this gained was surmounted by harsh attacks from the Parkinson-Goyle group. With the Ministry and Wizengamot seen to be overflowing with Weasleys, shouts of protest arose from all corners.

"They're war heroes. We get it, they've reminded us enough!" The notable Pansy Parkinson said over Wizarding Wireless' 'Pure and Honest News'. "But what I ask is, does that give them the right to change our sacred laws on a whim? The pro-werewolf and House Elf legislation was only the start. They are blatantly misleading the people, making a mockery of the legal system, and covering up countless crimes! We shouldn't stand for this bloody outrage!"

"We all know Harry Potter was heavenly," Romilda Vane commented in her latest _Witch Weekly_ column, "but this disaster began with the dratted love potions. I'd bet anything that poor Harry finally realised who he'd married; Ginny 'Potter' has been hiding her true self for years, and who knows what she'd do when confronted? Her usage of Amorentia alone shows her instability, and it's hardly a leap from that to heinous crimes against her illegally gotten 'family'! The Weasleys have clearly been covering for the Harpy while lining their pockets with galleons. We'll likely find 'Mrs. Potter' in Honolulu in a few years, laughing it up with a younger man and her departed husband's fortune."

Miss Vane's writing, though controversial, addresses some of the issues that the public likewise ponders. Rumours linking Mrs. Potter to Amorentia have circulated since she first began dating the famous Boy Who Lived when both attended Hogwarts. Their short engagement and quick wedding caused the questions to heighten, but these filtered off with Mrs. Potter's own rising fame on the Quidditch Pitch followed by the birth of their children. The Potters appeared to have a picturesque marriage; an image further boosted with the success of former-Head Boy and Junior Auror Teddy Lupin (who the Potters helped raise, particularly after the death of his grandmother Andromeda Tonks) and the public fascination with their birth children. James Potter was a rambunctious Gryffindor due to enter his third year at Hogwarts, and while Albus Potter raised some eyebrows in becoming a Slytherin, both boys were popular, intelligent children who enjoyed playing Quidditch and planning pranks (the most fiery of which have, in the past, gotten the Potter children and their Weasley cousins banned from the entirety of Knockturn Alley, Ollivanders, Honeydukes, the Hog's Head, and the immediate vicinity of both 10 Downing Street and Buckingham Palace). Their younger sister Lily Potter was to enter Hogwarts this September, and to all reports she was a happy child and doted on by her father (though our readers will recall the rumours that she was behind the aforementioned controversies concerning Downing Street, Buckingham Palace, and a bribed phoenix).

The five or six Potters were often remarked upon as the image of a perfect (albeit odd) household, but the disappearances have marked a return to questions asking how many secrets and skeletons they were hiding. While the public mourns the possible demise of Mr. Potter and his children, opinion is divided between viewing Mrs. Potter as a sympathetic figure, or as a heinous Black Widow. This division applies to the rest of the Weasleys as well, whose main political leaders and supporters have come under heavy fire from their rivals and the public forum.

The return of the Wizengamot in January will likely lead to the destruction of whatever power the Potter-Weasley faction has managed to hold onto. But this is only one of our nation's varied problems. As impossible as it might have seemed last August, with the fights over political majority, riots against the Ministry, the exponentially heightening crime rate, and the cries of nostalgia for Mr. Potter, the loss of one family might be enough to throw our world into revolution. We can only hope the Ministry was at least truthful about the Potters' safety, and that the Wizarding Saviour will reappear to return us to a Golden Age.

* * *

Christmases at the Burrow were never ordinary. From phoenix attacks, Lily's and Roxanne's hijacking of a flying motorcycle, or the typical sentient food fight, no holiday was safe from the Weasleys. But no one could argue that this was the strangest Winter yet. For unlike the hustling, bustling screams of every previous year, not a hush could be heard. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. In all, there _was _no chaos. No commotion. Only stilted conversation and false laughter, as the absence of the Potters and the Ministry turmoils hung around the house like a dementor's chill.

In light of the political turmoil, the adults were torn when Kingsley Shacklebolt made a short appearance at dinner. Molly was in her element with dishes galore, and Arthur was quick to side-step Percy so that the entire dinner conversation didn't revolve around the Ministry. It was a pleasant family dinner, all things considered, but the happiness at seeing an old friend were rather stifled. As Audrey mentioned, the poor man seemed more distracted than a horde of Wrackspurts. As Angelina aptly put, the mounds of reporters around the property likely had everything to do with his appearance. It would make a nice headline for the struggling Minister of Magic to be seen wishing goodwill to the missing Saviour's family.

Hermione snorted into her treacle tart, groaned that the press would read something very different into this, and murmured a few choice words about certain yellow reporters. Draco Malfoy mumbled a witty though insulting comeback about how this idiotic family would be the death of his, Ron sent the gravy flying his way, and both wives slapped their husbands for being prats.

Amid this 'holiday cheer', the children had better things to do than play nice at dinner. Or even dessert, which the girls had stolen the boys away from after only their second helpings. For unlike the rest of the Wizarding Britain, they were not missing national icons and heroic figures. The disappearance of Harry Potter and the subsequent loss Ginny Potter meant so much more to them than Ministry scapegoating or the chaos of the aurors and Wizengamot. They were missing their family and, whatever happened, were determined to get them back.

Unfortunately, this was where the problems arose. For the various Weasley kids had differing ideas about _which_ of the Potters should be returned, and how this could be done. Which was why they were crammed in the Burrow's attic, taking in a most unusual sight.

This rare situation was not Rose staring at one of her cousins menacingly. For said cousin, from due practice, ignored her and continued reading. The other Weasleys and single Malfoy were too shocked by the unprecedented event of Fred with a book in his hand—without the latter or the former exploding—to interfere. Besides, most of them were too busy trying to find a comfortable place amongst the dusty boxes and assorted doo-hickeys to be as intimidated by Rose as they usually were.

"Vicky?" Hugo shifted uneasily on his precarious seat of photo albums, well aware that he was in-between his sister and her death glare's target. "Why did you call a family meeting?"

"So we can plan." Victoire was the sole adult crammed into the area, and the only person even vaguely comfortable. Having found an only partly collapsed loveseat, she sat primly with her strawberry blonde hair neatly swept behind her back. Her features' only imperfections were the smudged mascara and dark circles around red eyes.

"Plan?" Dominique eyed her sister warily, which also wasn't an especially strange sight. "What plan?"

"To get our family back." The older blonde replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Got you covered." Fred said airily, not looking up from his book.

Rose frowned, her eyes narrowing further. "No, _we_ have it covered." She grabbed a protesting Scorpius' arm, almost wrenching him off the teetering pile of chocolate frog cards. The others stared at them warily.

"Aren't the adults taking care of it?" Lucy ventured slowly, jerking back as various cousins glared at her. "Not that I don't miss them! But it's, it's time travel. What can we do?"

"Haven't you heard any of Uncle Harry's stories?" Victoire spoke in frustration. "There's always a way to fix things. What we need is a—"

"—time vortex!" Hugo yelled, a chuckle in his voice.

"—genie!" Fred simultaneously shouted.

"—deus ex machina." Lucy mumbled.

"—veil of death!" Rose huffed. Scorpius reluctantly nodded along with her.

"…time turner." Victoire finished slowly, eyeing her cousins in trepidation. "Wait, what did you say?"

"I was joking." Hugo lifted his hands defensively at the annoyed looks.

"I wasn't! We need a genie." Fred replied, holding his book up like a trophy. "We'd get three wishes, and if we say exactly the right wording we'll get Jamie back."

"You're an idiot." Rose spurted with growing anger. "With the way genies work you'll end up exploding the world. Also, what about Al and Lily?"

"And Teddy!" Victoire shrilled, her clasped hands turning a threatening pale.

"Erm…" Molly looked around helplessly, "…Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny?"

"Yeah, like anything could happen to them. They probably _will_ find a TARDIS." Fred snorted while Rose and Victoire nodded in agreement. The other cousins reluctantly agreed. For while they loved the adults dearly, none of them could picture anything hurting that duo. Their Uncle was impressive enough, but their Aunt's past Quidditch games had proved that she was as scary as an Hungarian Horntail when peeved. The only time that their Uncle could even compete was when his kids were threatened: the cousins shared a shiver in remembering the kidnapping incident of 2007.

"Okay." Roxanne rubbed her eyes, unsure whether she wanted to venture down this topic. "Lucy was clearly just making a point—oh, don't glare at me! You were, don't deny it. So Rose, though I hate to ask, what's this 'Veil of Death' and why are we talking about something that sounds fatal?"

"Scorp's mum told us." Rose said as Scorpius flushed. "See, after Al once 'accidentally' set fire to a peacock, she tried to distract us from more chaos with stories."

"What? Your mum talks about Unspeakable stuff?" Lucy said disbelievingly, not finding the peacock story at all odd. "Ours only shares biscuit recipes!"

"Mum mostly talks about Quidditch." Scorpius elaborated. "But she mentioned this veil she was experimenting on because she thought it'd hold our attention. She said no one's positive what it is, but if you walk through it will send you to another time. Or dimension. Or, you know, maybe kill you. One of them at least. Probably. Kind of maybe."

Absolute silence met his explanation.

"Let me guess." Louis ventured slowly. "No one's heard back from anyone who's 'crossed over'?" Scorpius nodded slowly.

"But it doesn't mean they died!" Rose protested. "They could be stuck in time. It could be like, like a time portal thing."

"Wouldn't they have sent a message—" Hugo spoke up cautiously.

"Oh sure, why not poke logic holes in my argument. Why not! Next you'll be saying they transformed into Wrackspurts."

Everyone exchanged looks. One glance at Rose's furious face was enough for her cousins to silently agree to place the topic aside. Similarly, no one was willing to volunteer as tribute and point out that being 'stuck in time' would defeat the purpose of the exercise.

"Right, yes." Victoire said, treading around egg shells. "That's…um…something to think about. But using a time turner would be more direct."

"Then wouldn't the adults have used it?" Lucy chimed in, rolling her eyes at the stupidity of this entire thing.

Scorpius shrugged. "These are _experimental_ time turners. They're touchy."

"So?"

"So would you want to end up in the Founders' time?" The Malfoy boy asked drily before shaking his head at catching Fred's excited expression. "Forget I said that. Merlin, this is what I get for talking to Weasleys."

"Don't be mean." Rose said airily. This marked the point where every one of her cousins decided to corner Scorpius to find out what blackmail and/or bribery he had on the fiery redheaded Slytherin. For though they understood that she was distracted by other matters, Rose being 'airy' and not infuriated was nothing short of a miracle. As a precautionary measure, Hugo raced away from his sister. "So time turners is a no, the genie idea is stupid, we'll leave Lucy and her cynicism behind ("OI!"), and a time vortex is impossible without meeting a sexy immortal. Since Cardiff's horrid in the winter, Veil of Death it is!"

"You think something called the 'Veil of Death' is the best idea?" Hugo protested, before ducking back behind a towering wall of books as Rose's glare turned to him.

"I still don't see what's wrong with genies." Fred grumbled, crossing his arms with a pout.

"Or why you'd leave me behind!" Lucy's eyes sparked for, though hating idiotic ideas, her Weasley blood refused to say no to a reckless adventure.

"Genies are notorious for switching around the words of your wish, and no Lucy, we aren't leaving you out." Victoire explained with forced calm. "But Rose, the Veil? Seriously?"

All the cousins paused for a moment. But no laughing pun was said from an annoying Potter. As one, their expressions fell. Roxanne and Molly exchanged hesitant looks, drifting between family and agreeing with Lucy's previous common sense. "Why aren't we leaving this to the adults?"

"They've had four months." Louis said reluctantly. "With Uncle Harry gone the aurors are going mad, the barmy press are calling for the Ministry's head, Minister Kingsley is being blamed for everything, and half our family's on the verge of nervous breakdowns. This isn't working."

Silence met the end of this statement. No one could quite meet Rose's or Hugo's eyes, as their parents were the ones both hit the hardest and facing the worst criticism.

"We need them back." Victorire spoke quietly, a slight stutter on the tips of her words. "Forget about Wizarding Britain or the 'Man Who Conquered' rubbish. They're family and nothing our parents are doing is working. We need them. Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny, Jamie, Al, Lily…Teddy…"

"Aw, come on Vicky." Fred reached over a suitcase to awkwardly pat his crying cousin. "We'll get them back. I'll even forget about the genie, and we'll kidnap Captain Jack Harkness if we have to. Can you stop crying? Please?"

"Prat." Rose muttered, sniffing herself. She grabbed onto Scorpius' hand where, as the pressure significantly increased, the latter began to scan for exits. "The Veil?"

Lucy sighed. "I must be insane but…fine. The Veil. Not going through it! But, Christ, what's the harm in researching it?"

"The Veil." Molly reluctantly agreed. "Might as well embrace the family insanity and go all in."

"The Veil!" Fred shouted, flinging his book away and redirecting his attention from the crying Victoire. "WHOO, we're having an adventure!"

"Not so loudly." Hugo stage whispered. "Merlin, are you trying to stop this before it begins?

* * *

**A/N:** You know those fics where the future world doesn't care that their 'Saviour' and Head Auror vanished without a trace? Yeah, no. It'd be like if Obama disappeared tomorrow: confused fear would spread over possible terrorist attacks, the Democrats would flail while grappling for a leader, the Republicans would swoop in for a power-grab, and protests would fill the media and D.C.

Also, you know those fics where the entire Next Generation goes back in time? Yeah, there's no way I'm writing that. I utterly despise trying to keep so many new personalities straight! Goodness knows I had enough problems stuffing all the cousins into this chapter. So only a few of them (four max, I swear) will be going on a wee adventure.

On that note, I'm deciding who'll be the next time travellers (though it won't happen for awhile). Please (pretty please with a mint humbug on top!) let me know in a review or PM which of the following characters you'd like to see join the Potters back in time! I've sorted them by family for convenience's sake, but mix them around to your heart's content:

Bill, Fleur, Victoire

Percy, Audrey, Lucy

George, Angelina, Fred Jr.

Ron, Hermione, Rose, Hugo

Draco, Astoria, Scorpius

Other! (none of the Lovegoods/Scamanders, I'm afraid; I need them to stay in the future a bit longer)

**WARNING! Thank you so much for your lovely feedback, and I'm sorry again for the long wait! I just want to warn everyone that I'm currently rewriting this story (since rereading an earlier chapter made me wonder how in Merlin's name I'd managed to get into uni), and because of this IF YOU REVIEWED THE PREVIOUS 'CHAPTER 31', YOU MIGHT HAVE PROBLEMS REVIEWING THIS! If so, I am incredibly sorry, but am so grateful you wished to give feedback! If you do run into this problem I'd still love to hear your opinion, and you're more than welcome to review a previous chapter or send me a PM.**

**Thank you again for your patience!**


	30. Hogsmeade and Hellos

**A/N:** Thank you so much for all of the votes on who should time travel next! Again, this particular plotline won't happen for ages, so feel free to champion whoever you'd like up until the 'chosen peeps' go back. Also, a big thank you to my incredible beta spellmugwump97!

Looking back at the story, I realised that after 30 chapters I still wasn't out of September. Following my panic attack, I figured what the fic needed to hurry it along was a dose of canon and rewriting! So a large chunk of this chapter is taken directly from Ch.16: 'Hog's Head' of "OotP". I tried to keep the gist of the Hogsmeade Trip and the DA the same while switching all the dialogue around. Also, this chapter will likely seem patchier than usual. Sorry! I'm heading to Paris and London tomorrow and wanted to make sure I at least updated before vacation. When I get back I'll add in more scenes and dialogue to flesh it out a bit more.

**IMPORTANT NEWS! **This story's being rewritten! Not only is the 'Lupin reunion' finally up, but I'm adding in two sub-plots: _Harry_'s Occlumency lessons to Harry, and 'how-Al-and-Lily-became-convinced-their-dad's-the- Doctor' (I'm also working on inserting 'Doctor Who' references everywhere._ Allons-y!_). I've also consolidated some chapters together to make a cleaner, sleeker fic but, unfortunately, this site organises reviews based off of the chapter number. So if you review Chapter 5 and I combine Chapters 5 and 6, the review remains attached to the _new_ Chapter 5 (meaning that you wouldn't be able to leave a 'second' review to Chapter 5). So if you've been totally awesome and have consistently reviewed (THANK YOU SO MUCH!), you might not be able to review the next few numerical chapters. I'm really sorry! I'd still love to hear any feedback either through a PM or as a review to a previous chapter.

**HEY YOU! YES, YOU WHO'S SKIPPING OVER MY VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE! LOOK HERE!**

**—**The new scenes are back in these reworked chapters:

Ch. 21-Hesitance and Hugging: new last scene, 'Lupin Reunion'.

Ch. 22-Padawans and Polyjuice: new first scene, 'Occlumency'; new last scene, 'Wibbly-Wobbly-Doctorness'.

Ch. 27-Fallen Hearts and Floating Heads: small new addition of 'Wibbly-Wobbly-Doctorness'.

—These chapters are the new 'combined' ones:

Ch. 6-Freezing and Fabrications

Ch.7-Body-Binding and Bellowing

**General Disclaimer:** Rowling, as long as her books are, never took 30 chapters and 150,000 words to get from September to October. *repeated headdesks*

* * *

Harry wasn't the happiest bloke in this last week of September. His exhaustion hadn't abetted (even though he was finally, oddly, having nightmare-less sleep), and his temper was boiling so close to the surface that it was a miracle he'd yet to go ballistic at the reactions to his temporarily transformed anatomy. His friends taking the mick was to be expected, and he was fairly proud of himself for only sending jelly-legs jinxs when the sound of Ron's entertained laughter approached (if the git couldn't remember the countercurse, that was his own fault). Hermione and Ginny at least made the attempt to hide their chuckling, but the Parkers followed his 'best mate's' example and fell into unashamed giggling fits at every possible moment. At least the Weasley Twins were still too traumatised to do the same, and it was slightly amusing to watch his older self try and fail to suppress his horrified expression. Of course, every DADA class also came with _Ginny_ and Teddy, and those two were almost as unbearable as Ron.

Harry stubbornly refused to go to Divination in his current state (something which Hermione only grudgingly allowed), and would have similarly ducked out of Potions if he didn't think that'd have dire consequences on his health. Snape was very near killing him as it was. The teacher's fury at Gryffindor had reached stunning heights within a few short hours of the transformation, and though Harry couldn't help but be curious concerning the remarks about his mum, he had enough self-preservation to stay the hell out of Snape's way. He was recklessly noble, not suicidal.

The worst part of the twins' prank was actually everyone else's reaction. Sure, the people joking around about it were to be expected, and he'd honestly expected that part to be far harder to put up with (particularly with much of Hogwarts still believing him to be a liar and/or lunatic). But as it turned out, he almost came to miss his days as an 'attention hog and liar'.

For the truly mortifying reactions were the boys, and Harry dearly wished he was making this up. The worst part of this was that he could never predict who would have this 'interesting' reaction. One moment he could be chatting with Hermione and out of the corner of his eye he'd spot Zacharias Smith blushing. Or Roger Davies eyeing him speculatively. Or _Draco Freaking Malfoy_, still with a limp courtesy of Lily, pausing in the middle of their bi-weekly screaming insults/hexing match to gaze without abandon at his chest.

It didn't help matters that both Ginnies would start _giggling_ whenever witnessing this travesty. So in all? Harry had come to terms with the fact he was an inch away from a nervous breakdown. Or a nervous collapse from 'exhaustion-that-wasn't-really-insomnia'. Or both. He wasn't picky, really. But his friends had a rather different opinion and, having finally had enough of his complaining, it was late the night before Hogsmeade weekend when Hermione reached her limit.

They were in front of the fire, Hermione and Ron on opposite sides from each other (with neither mentioning their new tendency to keep a distance), while Harry and Ginny sat close together on the couch between them. With the rest of the Common Room long deserted—partly because it was 2am, but mostly thanks to the Parkers' earlier commandeering of Fawkes and their eager tries to see how 'crimson and gold' the Gryffindor rooms could become—the four lounged in relative peace amongst the newly-charred walls. Ginny was lazily reading _The Quibbler_ upside-down (her annoyance with Luna unable to last more than an afternoon), while playfully tugging at Harry's long hair. Said boy was scowling at her good-naturedly while ranting about the rest of the school. Ron, chess game against himself long-forgotten, laughed at Harry's distress but, like a true best mate, winced sympathetically at the truly abysmal parts. Hermione, after rereading the same History of Magic paragraph a round dozen times, had enough of the endless distraction—sympathetic to his 'plight' or not.

"Then you know what Malfoy did?" Harry waved his hands in emphasis, a scowl heavy on his expression as he repeated an event for the umpteenth time. "Right in the middle of the blasted Great Hall, he—"

"We were there. We know Malfoy's a git." Hermione interrupted tiredly, rubbing at her eyes while shutting the book with a _snap_. "But some of us are trying to be productive and research the Founders' items. So, though it must be _so hard to be eyed up for a few more days_, stop being melodramatic! No Harry, don't look at me like that. Honestly Ron, close your jaw! I'm not joking, so stop staring at me as though I've just proclaimed my love for a dementor."

"But, but _Malfoy_?" Harry gave a squeak. A very manly squeak. Ron would've snorted in amusement if he wasn't also shocked.

"Shouldn't you be more concerned about the others?" Ginny said idly, pausing in her failed attempt to try and braid his hair. "Not that the thought of Malfoy fancing you isn't revolting, but we do have other things to worry about."

"Revolting?" Ron stared at the girls, his mouth likewise agape. "No no no, I'm with Harry. _This_ is the ultimate crisis. We have to wipe every trace of this from our minds! Agreed?"

"Definitely." Harry seconded, coming out of his stupefaction with a shudder. Having at last reached the point following a crisis when he switched from ranting to action, he jumped to his feet (trying to ignore the unpleasant sensation of jiggly parts which shouldn't be there, and one which should be but wasn't). "Okay, no, we can take care of this. Sure. Absolutely. I'll go to Parker, get obliviated, and then you can–"

"I'm coming with you!" Ron likewise hopped up, sending his chess set flying as the pieces shrieked to the ground. "He'd be in his rooms. Can we stop by the dungeons and curse the ferret on the way?"

"Both of you, sit down!" Hermione pushed the protesting redhead back into his seat while sending a dangerous enough stare at Harry for him to reluctantly follow. "No one is getting their memory erased, especially not for this. Also, no waking up teachers in the middle of the night!"

"_What?_" Harry squawked as Ron furiously nodded. "Parker's dragged me out enough before. Besides, Malfoy was eyeing me up!"

"So is half the school." Ginny put the magazine to the side. "I'm not saying it isn't mortifying, but even Lily was able to 'take out' Malfoy; he's not a problem. Especially when there are more important things to worry about. Like why a dozen or so students have started stalking you."

'True.' Harry silently admitted to himself that, yes, this was suspicious, but he failed to see how it could compare to his Malfoy-induced trauma. "So a few people have been following me. How's that new? They probably find the prank funny or, you know, want blackmail or something. I have no idea how this isn't in the _Prophet_ yet."

"They aren't only 'stalking' you." Hermione corrected. "You _and_ Ginny; she had a crowd right behind her at lunch. Also, this started the day after the prank, which is too long of a wait for it to be a direct reaction. Most importantly, it's only students close to us: Parvati, Lavender, Angelina, Katie, Alicia, Dean—"

"We get it," Ron still looked glassy-eyed, as though trying to repress a memory, "but what does it matter?"

Ginny gave an annoyed glance at her brother before turning back to Harry. "Have they said anything to you? Colin cornered me earlier and seemed, well, it was the strangest thing. He was very evasive, as though he was trying to tell me something without directly saying it."

"Same here." Harry admitted, not entirely ready to let go of the Obliviation idea. "It's been a bit ridiculous, actually. Don't know what they're on about, they keep winking and saying they want to be ready for something. Utterly barmy."

"Oh." Hermione dropped her quill with a splatter. Not caring about her ink-stained parchment, she held her hands to her mouth in surprise. "Ohhh."

"Care to enlighten us?" Ginny picked up the quill, sending a cleaning charm at her friend's once-clean coursework.

"The—you." Hermione turned to Harry, who looked at her inquisitively. "I mean, not-you, but, but—you know there's been a lot of, ahem, 'forgetting' lately. What if they decided to take off the charms?"

"What?" Ron had the beginning of a disbelieving smile. "Course they didn't. We'd have been bombarded by people if it was taken off."

"What if they only took it off some students?" Hermione whispered, leaning in closer. "The ones who know the two of you well enough to recognise something's off. The two lists match, but don't include those close to us who originally knew about it. Maybe, Harry, maybe they believe you about You Know Who! That's why they want to learn to defend themselves! _That's _what they think is coming!"

"Come off it, that's barmy." But Harry sounded uncertain. "Next time we see one of them we'll question them, all right?"

"We won't need to." Hermione looked slightly sheepish. "Padma cornered me after Transfiguration and said that a group of them wanted to meet up with us. She's organising it for Hogsmeade."

Ron and Harry blinked bewilderedly.

"You were going to mention this, when?" At the brunette's expression, Harry groaned. "You were going to spring it on us."

Hermione fidgeted, shared a frantic glance with Ginny. This look wasn't lost on the boys. "My sister knew too?!" Ron exclaimed disbelievingly. "How many secrets are you two keeping?"

"None!" Ginny smoothly denied.

"You'd overreact!" Hermione burst out at the same moment, making the redhead look at her in exasperation.

"Overreact?" Harry said dangerously.

"Like that." Hermione nodded at his tone, crossing her arms defensively. "There's one or two things Ginny and I are taking care of, because you both always go off the handle!"

"Bloody hell!" Ron griped. "Is everyone keeping secrets in this blasted place? What is—"

"Meeting some people at Hogsmeade is hardly 'a secret'." Ginny snapped back at her brother. "Anyway, think of it logically. Harry, you're busy with Occlumency, the time travellers, the Ministry and press, students' sniping, Quidditch, and the twins' blasted prank! Let Hermione and I handle one or two things."

While Harry partly relaxed in recognising the reasoning, Ron was still annoyed. "What about me then?"

"You're hot-headed." Hermione sighed, sending him an irritated look. "Oh, and I'm sorry for not wanting to start _yet another_ argument with your pig-headed, oblivious self!"

"What're you talking about!?" Ron exclaimed as Harry and Ginny both tried, and failed, to draw themselves away from the rising tension. "That's never stopped you before!"

"_Excuse me?_" Hermione breathed hotly. "_I'm not the one who kissed someone, before NEVER MENTIONING IT AGAIN!_"

"WHAT? THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID!"

"YOU KISSED ME! IT'S BLOODY WELL DIFFERENT!"

Ron paused half-way out of his chair in shock. "Hermione, language?"

"I'LL SAY WHATEVER I WANT, YOU STUPID GIT!" Hermione shouted, her anger tumbling over. Seeing that wands were about to be drawn, Harry and Ginny made a silent truce and scampered up to the dorms just when hexes began flying.

* * *

Like most of Ron's and Hermione's endless arguments, by the next morning most of the ill-will had disapparated. There was a chilly tension between them, but lately that'd been part of the norm. So though Harry groaned at the lack of progress, he was more than willing to settle back into the Cold War.

But, when walking to the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry suddenly found himself wishing that the two were still on bad enough terms to, on principle, disagree with whatever the other one was arguing. That, at least, was better than them ganging up on him…which was exactly what happened when Hermione sent him a wry glance as they waited for a moving staircase to the sixth floor.

"I was wondering," Hermione spoke up to Harry as they walked onto the steps. Her voice still had a frosty hint from last night, but was purposefully nonchalant. It would've been effective if she hadn't overdone it, "whether you'd thought any more about the Deathly Hallows."

"Course I have," said Harry grumpily, "can't forget it, can we, with that git showing off everywhere."

"I meant how we should further research it. Ron and I think that we should—" Ron cast her an alarmed, threatening kind of look. She frowned at him, "—Oh, all right, _he_ refuses to take a side. Big surprise there. But fine, _I_ think we should question the Parkers further. That is, after meeting with Padma and the others, and finding out what they want."

Harry did not answer at once. He pretended to be perusing a passing portrait of Victorian women trying to force a hungover Sir Cadogen out of their canvas, because he did not want to say what was in his mind. He had given the matter a great deal of thought. Sometimes the entire concept seemed insane, just as it had on the night _Ginny_ had told them the story, but on others, he had found himself thinking about how cool it would be. About how this mystical power could be so useful in his various encounters with Dark creatures and Death Eaters—it was in fact likely how he had even survived…

"Well," he said slowly as they made their way past more paintings and armour to the fifth floor, "yeah, I—I've thought about it a bit."

"And?" said Hermione eagerly.

"I dunno," said Harry, playing for time. He looked over at Ron.

"I thought it was a good idea from the start," said Ron, who seemed keener to join in this conversation now that he was sure Harry was not going to start shouting or cursing again. Or that, more importantly, agreeing could somewhat put him on Hermione's good side. "Heck, it was your idea to gain more information from the start. Why the wait?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair, not wanting to say that between DADA classes and Occlumency 'detentions', the last thing he wanted to do was spend more time with his older self. "You must've noticed how many things they're hiding. Parseltongue, the deaths, the entire war, him being some kind of 'super wizard', the Hallows…it's so bad that not even their kids know everything! Should we really go poking around with this stuff?"

"Can't believe _you're_ saying that." Ron muttered with a grin, waving absently at Dean as they passed (who was arguing with a snickering Peeves to give back his paints and to _not_ use them to graffiti the fourth floor).

'Yes, Harry,' said Hermione gently, though shot the redhead a look, 'but all the same, there's no point pretending that we're not involved, because we are. You especially. Besides, you're already a great wizard: you were the only person last year who could throw off the Imperius Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't, Viktor always said—"

Ron looked round at her so fast he appeared to crick his neck. Rubbing it, he said, "Yeah? What did Vicky say?"

"Ho ho," said Hermione in a bored voice. "He said Harry knew how to do stuff even he didn't, and he was in the final year at Durmstrang."

Ron was looking at Hermione suspiciously. "You're not still in contact with him, are you?"

"So what if I am?" said Hermione coolly, though her face was a little pink. "I can have a pen-pal if I—"

"He didn't only want to be your pen-pal," said Ron accusingly.

Hermione shook her head exasperatedly and, ignoring Ron, who was continuing to watch her, said to Harry, "Well, what do you think? Should we ask them?"

"Just Jenny and Teddy, yeah?"

"Well," said Hermione, looking a mite anxious again. "Well… now, don't fly off the handle again, Harry, please… I know how you feel about him, but I really think we should go to the source. I mean, he's key to everything from this to V- Voldemort. Oh, don't be pathetic, Ron. We need to ask 'Henry'."

Harry considered this for a moment, not wanting to admit his hesitation about finding out what the future held. "Yeah, but I doubt he'd tell us anything. He's as paranoid as Moody, remember?"

"I think you might be surprised how many he might open up," said Hermione seriously. "Look," she leaned towards him—Ron, who was still watching her with a frown on his face, leaned forwards to listen too—"we'll corner him after Hogsmeade tomorrow, okay? If the Parkers did bring back the memories without warning us, they owe us a favour."

* * *

Harry had been looking forward to the weekend trip into Hogsmeade, but far less so now that Hermione had not only signed them up for who-knows-what, but that the prank was still due to last a few days longer (though he'd kept rechecking with Madam Pomfrey. Annoyed at his constant visits, she'd barred him from the Hospital Wing for everything but actual injuries). Having declined offers of muggle clothes from Hermione and Ginny, he was just wearing transfigured robes—strategically loose and bulky—like he'd been doing since this whole mess began.

Still, all things considered, Harry was partly excited for the trip. The prank had come with a slight bit of welcome anonymity, and it'd be excellent to get away from the insanity of the castle for a bit. But his hopes for the day plummeted even further when, over breakfast, a note from Sirius (that cryptically said 'To watch out for him') added in yet another worry. Ever since his godfather had haphazardly raced through Hogwarts on multiple occasions, he couldn't help but question when the man would take one too many risks and be caught.

What were they going to do if the great black dog came bounding up the street towards them in Hogsmeade, perhaps under the nose of Draco Malfoy or someone who would recognise Sirius? It had only been 'sheer dumb luck' that he hadn't been spotted before.

"You can't blame him for wanting to get out and about," said Ron, when Harry discussed his fears with him and Hermione. He kept chewing a piece of toast, ignoring their best female friend's glare at his rudeness, "I mean, he's been on the run for over two years, hasn't he, and I know that can't have been a laugh, but at least he was free, wasn't he? Now he's just shut up all the time with that ghastly elf. Plus, I think the Parkers keep inviting him over."

Hermione scowled at Ron, but otherwise ignored the slight on Kreacher and the continued talking with his mouth full. Harry, for his part, scowled at the mention of the Parkers.

"The trouble is," Hermione said to Harry, pointedly swallowing her porridge before speaking, "until V-Voldemort—oh, for heaven's sake, Ron—comes out into the open, Sirius is going to have to stay relatively hidden, isn't he? The stupid Ministry isn't going to realise Sirius is innocent until they accept that Dumbledore's been telling the truth about him all along. Once the fools start catching real Death Eaters again, it'll be obvious Sirius isn't one… I mean, he hasn't got the Mark, for one thing."

"Don't know why the Parkers haven't just fixed this. Though, to be fair," Ron quickly backtracked at Hermione's pointed glare, "guess the time thing would become an issue."

"Right," said Harry vaguely, his mind torn between myriad of problems.

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione said quietly. "You've got enough on your plate without Sirius, too."

She was quite right; of course, not only was he dealing with the time travellers, the Ministry's and _Prophet_'s accusations, and a new relationship amidst an incredibly 'inconvenient' prank, but he was remained strangely exhausted and had taken to drifting off at dull moments (before jerking to alarm with Hermione's indignant pokes), which wrecked havoc on his homework. This wasn't helped by Quidditch and the continuing Occlumency lessons, where after each he felt as though his mind had been roughly scrubbed—even though his older self insisted he was getting better.

Ron was even further behind with his work than Harry, because while they both had Quidditch practice twice a week, Ron also had his prefect duties. However, Hermione, who was taking more subjects than either of them, had not only finished all her homework but was also finding time to knit more elf clothes, something which she had only restarted once she had gotten oaths out of each of the Parkers' kids to stop using them as Slytherin bait (no one wanted to ask what exactly they meant by that). Harry had to admit that she was getting better; it was now almost always possible to distinguish between the hats and the socks.

* * *

"WHERE IS SHE!?"

Fred snickered as George jumped in his seat by the fire. "Little Harrikins? Last time I saw—"

_Slap!_

Jamie laughed as the twins clutched their ears, staring at the fuming Angelina in surprise. George looked particularly hurt. "Angie! I didn't even do anything."

"You were thinking it." She scowled. Alicia, behind the steaming Quidditch Captain, waved her finger around to denote the mental instability of her friend. "I meant Katie! We were supposed to have a Chasers' meeting before Hogsmeade an hour ago!"

"No idea." Fred, still rubbing the slap's impact to make a point, grinned imperviously at Angelina. "Try accioing her?"

"Nah, that never works." Jamie disagreed, sitting up and getting into the swing of things. "Tried it once with Snuffles. Yeah—wouldn't try that again. Oh wait," he noticed the twins' incredulous gazes, "I meant the family dog! Not what you were thinking."

"I'm just imagining a Grim flying through the air." George said thoughtfully, enough so to forget to fake moan over his ear.

"…so you idiots don't know where she is." Angelina cut through the nonsense.

"Negative. I'm sure she'll show up." Fred idly waved his hand. "Seriously, one little accio…"

Angelina growled in frustration, and in looking around to find something to hit the morons with she spotted a better prospect. With a rapid step, pull, and shriek of surprise, another girl was non-magically, forcibly 'summoned' by an angry Quidditch Captain.

"_Have you seen Katie?_" Angelina scowled, her bad temper easily showing through. Though she did release the startled brunette's arm.

"What?" The new girl blinked, looking at the group in confusion while shuffling with her bag. "No, she was supposed to meet me earlier. I figured she forgot and went to Hogsmeade early."

Angelina sighed, her frustration deflating as she'd come to the same conclusion. "Great. Fine, I guess we'll have to postpone the meeting. Oh, everyone, Leanne."

"Hi everyone?" Leanne gave a small, uncertain wave, her eyes round at talking to the rather infamous Weasley Twins and their 'apprentice' who already laid chaos in his wake. This last thought caught in her mind as she realised exactly who she was chatting to. "I'm, err, going to go…"

The poor girl was out of the portrait hole in moments, a few students looking in shock at her blurred, running figure and wave of air.

The twins gave each other high fives. James, grinning, muttered something about his siblings being no competition in his wake of insanity—phoenixes or no. Alicia seemed a moment from dashing after Leanne and Angelina slammed a hand to her head, deciding that, yes, she was surrounded by blasted idiots.

* * *

Elsewhere on this Hogsmeade morning, a certain trio of Gryffindors was queuing in front of Filch to visit the village. Soon enough he'd given them curt nods that set his jowls aquiver again and the students walked on, out on to the stone steps and the cold, sunlit day. They walked between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars and turned left on to the road into the village, the wind whipping their hair into their eyes. At the split in the road they not only ran into Ginny as planned (who had been taking in a few extra laps on the pitch), but Al and Lily as well (both of whom once again snickered at Harry's appearance, much to his displeasure).

Taking Ginny's hand and pulling them away from the laughing duo, they walked through the breezy day with idle small talk—no mentions of any of the problems hanging over their heads. It was only when they got nearer the village that Harry's nerves returned, as he wondered why on earth Padma had called this meeting. "Remind me again why we're doing this?" He said to the group at large.

"Because it's a wonderful idea." Hermione swung her arms, sparing an oblivious Ron an annoyed glance.

"Let me rephrase." Harry groaned as Ginny pulled him closer. "Why did I agree to this? What exactly is 'this'?"

"Because if you hadn't agreed you would have never gotten any peace." Lily chirped from a step ahead where she had been formulating a plan with Al. "Trust me, you'll like what they'll ask you."

"Well, no." Al admitted. "You'll hate it. But we'll pressure you into agreeing."

"Of course you two would know." Harry muttered, quickening his step while trying to ignore his instinct to run while he still could.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Ron asked, not-so-subtly shifting the topic. "The Three Broomsticks?"

"Oh – no," said Hermione, surprised at Ron's sensitiveness, "no, it's always packed and really noisy. Padma said to meet in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one; it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit… you know… dodgy… but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."

They walked down the main street past Zonko's, where they spotted Fred, George, Lee, and Jamie (with a collection of fireworks innocently sticking out of their bags), past the post office with owls whirring too and fro, and turned up a side-street at the top of which stood a small inn. A battered wooden sign of a literal hog's head hung from a rusty bracket over the door, and creaked in the wind as they approached. It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be compressed earth, though as Harry stepped on to it he realised that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.

A group of hooded figures talking in strong Yorkshire accents eyed them suspiciously as they walked in, and in a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sat a witch with a thick, black veil that fell to her toes, who Harry could have sworn _whistled_ at them. Luckily for whatever remained of his sanity, the barman soon sidled towards them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard. He was tall and thin and looked vaguely familiar to Harry.

"What?" he grunted, giving him a second glance of surprise.

"Six Butterbeers, please," said Hermione. The man refocused, reached beneath the counter, and pulled up three very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.

"Twelve Sickles," he grunted.

"I'll get them," said Harry quickly, passing over the silver. The barman's eyes travelled over Harry, resting for a fraction of a second on his scar, and his mouth almost pierced in a chuckle. Then he turned away and deposited Harry's money in an ancient wooden till whose drawer. The students retreated to the furthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around. A man in dirty grey bandages rapped the counter with his knuckles and received another smoking drink from the barman.

"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here. I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care."

"I've always wanted to try Firewhisky—" Lily craned her neck to look at the bar.

"You—are—_eleven_!" Hermione gasped, sending Harry and Ginny betrayed looks when they merely gaped.

"Never stopped her before." Al rolled his eyes.

"So, who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked, trying to distract himself from the disturbing knowledge that his future kids were discussing underage drinking (particularly trying to ignore the overprotective pull he felt). He wrenched open the rusty top of his Butterbeer and took a swig.

"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checking her watch and anxiously towards the door. "I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is—oh, look, this might be them now." A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd people. First came Neville with Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with Cho and (looking so dreamy that she might have walked in by accident) Luna Lovegood with a second blonde girl he couldn't recall; then Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson (the latter looking as though she was about to hex someone), Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, and a Hufflepuff girl with a long plait down her back whose name Harry did not know; three Ravenclaw boys he was pretty sure were called Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot, and bringing up the rear, Fred, George, Lee, and Jamie, all four of whom were carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko's merchandise.

"A couple of people?" Harry croaked hoarsely. "_A couple of people?_"

"Yes, well, Padma said the idea was quite popular," said Hermione happily as Ginny grinned beside her, both excited to find out what was happening. "Ron, do you want to pull up some chairs?"

Fred and George rapidly took charge of the drinks, and before Harry knew it he was looking out at the expectant crowd with a hopeless clawing in his throat. "What're they expecting?" He said, getting anxious.

"We'll just see what they've got to say," said Ginny soothingly, taking his hand in her own. Harry was about to remark in an annoyed contrary when a cough sounded from the crowd of people settled down in twos and threes (scattered amongst the tables).

"Um…" Padma waved slightly, standing from her seat. "Hi. So you all know why we're here. Or, you should? The Parkers told us everything. We know and you know what happened at the Welcoming Feast, and I want to know more. Not only about the insane magic, but about how to prepare for what's coming." She exchanged a glance with Cho, before again meeting Harry's uncertain gaze. "We can always study, sure. But for something like an oncoming war? We need a teacher. One who has time outside of class. One who can focus mainly on the practical side of things. One who's had experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts."

Harry felt his breath clench in realisation. Merlin, this was why they were alright with meeting in a public place. They didn't want to talk about the time-travellers: they wanted more practice for the war. What with the way they were all staring at him…but no. He had to be sure. "Why?"

"Why?" Dean blinked, surprised at his dorm mate's slowness. "Because You Know Who's back, you tosspot."

"He's been saying it enough the past few months." Lavender agreed with a smirk, before realising her hypocrisy. She sent an apologetic look at her friend. "Sorry about that, by the way. It was just, you know, my dad said…"

"Your 'dad said'?" Ron scowled at the girl. "So that's enough to alienate someone! Very Gryffindor of you. What was enough proof for you, a few blasted memories? I bet you only want extra practice to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. while getting on the professors' good side."

"Of course we want to pass our O.W.L.s" Said Padma at once. "But I wouldn't need this, or brownie points with 'the Parkers' to accomplish that. I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defence because…because…" she took a great breath and finished, "Because Lord Voldemort's back."

The reaction was immediate and predictable. Dennis gave a surprised cry and slopped butterbeer down himself, Terry gave a kind of involuntary twitch, Cho shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry. The entire group's agreement was obvious, and they'd even managed to sway the main Gryfindors. That is, all except one.

"Uh huh." Harry eyed them suspiciously. "I need more information. You lot will believe what the—Parkers—say on blind faith, even about Voldemort?" He ignored the new round of winces. "You've got to be kidding me! I've been saying the truth for months, and _now_ all of you just agree? If you ask me, these 'lessons' will be about questioning me on how—Cedric—was killed."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"No, it's not." Cho at last said, eyes tearing up. "We don't want—"

"Harry, you can't honestly believe that!" Ginny cut in angrily. "Take help when it's offer —"

"From people who will change their minds on a whim?" Harry retorted, standing up while letting go of her hand. He sent a look at a partly-chagrined group. "I saw him come back. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, you _shouldn'_t believe the blasted Parkers, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

"We don't want that! I promise—"

" I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory or any of it, all right?" Harry cooly interrupted Padma. His temper, always so close to the surface these days, was rising again. He did not take his eyes away from the group's widening faces. "So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out. I don't know what the Parkers promised you so you can ask those gits yourself. They haven't told me a damn thing and I clearly have enough to deal with other than this. Come on, let's go."

"Harry, wait!" Padma cried, but numerous voices spoke over her.

"We don't care about the stories, we want your expertise! Or is it not true you can produce a Patronus Charm?" Parvati asked, making herself heard over the rest.

Harry was silent, still an inch from leaving. Hermione sent him a look before turning to the others. "Yes, I've seen it."

"I had to learn it!" He protested angrily. With this group, the last thing he wanted to do was talk about past adventures.

"Harry, please, we just want to help all of you," Padma cut in rapidly, "and this proves that you can teach us! We don't need or want to hear the stories. Like Parvati said, we want to learn from your experience."

"Which is a lot." Neville chimed in. "Harry killed a basilisk with the sword in Dumbledore's office."

"It's true," said Ginny, retaking Harry's hand in her own, strategically holding him in place.

"Third year, he fought off about a hundred dementors at once," said Ron.

"And the dementors in the summer," George added.

"And last year, he really did fight off You Know Who in the flesh," said Ginny with a proud grin.

"Wait!" said Harry, holding up his free hand to stop the cascade of adventures. "It all sounds great when you say it like that, but the truth is, most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time. I nearly always had help and, anyways, even if you are telling the truth, _I don't want to show you any of 'this stuff'!_" He protested heatedly. The only thing stopping him from storming out the door was Ginny's tight hold and fiery look.

"Course he does." Jamie piped in happily, the Parker kids having realised where this was going. "I'd expect we could be an 'army of students' like the _Prophet_'s been making out. Potter's Army! The-Ministry-Are-Bastards Army!"

"Manners, James." Ginny said idly, similarly wrestling Harry back down and away from the door.

"Yes, mum." Jamie said with a wink. The other students sniggered, the few eavesdropping patrons groaned about overly sarcastic kids these days, and Harry and Ginny were too busy with a silent argument to take notice of any of this. "I swear, those two are like an old married couple."

"Yes, well," Padma said hastily, sending the Parkers a look to stop the dratted distraction, "Harry. We really would love to take lessons from you, and we aren't lying. We're sorry for not believing you and _this_ is us asking for your forgiveness as well as help. The Parkers also mentioned a research project? I'm sure we could give a hand with that in exchange."

There was a murmur of agreement. Harry, flicking his gaze around, felt a jerk of anger that Hermione was nodding with Padma's words, Ron was smirking at him, and Ginny was outright smiling in excitement.

"Right," Padma said, relief thick in her voice. "Well then, the next question is how often do we do it."

"I still haven't agreed." Harry retorted with narrowed eyes.

"I really don't think there's any point meeting less than once a week." Hermione, seeing her best friend's betrayed glance, shrugged and mouthed, 'It's a good idea.'

"Hang on," said Angelina, raising her voice, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."

"Nor ours!" Ernie yelped in.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone." Said Ginny, slightly impatiently as she was still struggling to keep Harry from balking out the door. "But this is rather important. We're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters—"

"Exactly!" Ernie said with further relief, happy to have most of the key players on his side. "I think this is really important, more so than any exam. We all know what's at stake and what's coming!"

"The debacle with the Ministry would be more than enough reason to practice." Anthony Goldstein mused. "Look at what they're publishing in the _Prophet_. The leadership actually believes Dumbledore would use the students in the school as a kind of private army; they think he'd mobilise us against the Ministry. Is anyone else scared that the people in charge believe such nonsense? If it was up to them that Umbridge person would be here, and likely not teaching us any defence at all!"

Everyone nodded in agreement—except for Ginny, who flung herself onto her boyfriend as he made another attempt to escape. She silently thanked the twins for the prank: if Harry was in his normal body, there was no way she'd be able to hold him down with such ease.

Luna Lovegood took that moment to pipe up. "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."

"What?" Harry's muffled voice from beneath Ginny called out, completely thrown by this unexpected piece of information.

"Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths," said Luna solemnly. The blonde next to her nodded solemnly.

"No, he hasn't," snapped Hermione.

"Yes, he has," James chimed in while Al and Lily groaned.

"Dear Merlin, there's two of them." Cho exchanged a scared look with Padma.

"What are heliopaths?" asked Neville, looking blank.

"They're spirits of fire," said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of—"

"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione tartly.

"Course they do!" The other blonde girl grinned happily.

Padma gave the new student a look, having not noticed her before in the crowd. "Luna? Who's your friend?"

"Wotcher!" The unknown young student gave a wide smile. "It's Dora, nice to meet you."

"I—what?" Harry, finally pushing Ginny away, stared at her in confusion before realisation dawned. "Why—"

"You've heard about me from my Auntie Tonks?" The girl waved it away, her grin still in place. "I get that all the time. I'm a transfer to Hogwarts."

Padma was peering inquisitively at the newcomer. Angelina groaned from the front. "Christ, not another one of you."

"Not one of us." Jamie looked at her in puzzlement before something clicked. "The Ministry! Umbridge and Fudge! Right. So, you agreed to spend more time with Teddy?"

Dora blinked, caught off guard at the accurate chain of guesses. "Whoa—please tell me you want to be an auror when you grow up?"

"Nah," Jamie waved it away, but his grin was proud, "dad says it's too much paperwork. Hunting Crumple-Horned Snorkacks would be way better."

Luna beamed. His siblings groaned. "What about Quidditch?" Al tried. "You know, a normal-ish career?"

"Or taking over the world?" Lily was surprised at the shocked looks her statement got. "What, didn't you know? I try to do that everyday." Al and Jamie sent her looks, while only a few other muggleborns got the joke. Hermione's lips thinned in a brilliant impression of McGonagall. The Ravenclaws made mental notes to explore this further.

"Anyway," Harry struggled to keep focussed, "what I'm saying is that while it might seem like adventures, I don't know what I'm doing most of the time. The reason I'm still alive is because of my friends and sheer blind luck. That's it! Can't you see?"

* * *

What Harry didn't quite see was how the meeting had ended with another one potentially planned following a research day at the library. He hadn't agreed to anything, and felt like he'd been swept up in a hurricane. This dizziness was only exacerbated by everyone's quick departure from Hog's Head and the barman's pointed glares.

Yes, he was happy to somehow find himself with his girlfriend, but couldn't place how in Merlin's name this had occurred. Though he wasn't complaining about the newest situation, especially since Ginny had lessened from her previous stance in seeing Harry's genuine hesitation.

"If you don't want to do this, it's fine." Ginny nestled her head against Harry's neck as they verged off from the few lingering others, heading aimlessly through Hogsmeade. A few passer-bys made noises at the sight of 'two girls' snuggling so close to each other. "But it was only fair to hear what they had to say."

"I know." Harry sighed, pulling her even closer, his arm wrapping around her shoulder against the wind. "Doesn't mean I have to like it. Why do they even want me to teach, anyway? They didn't believe me before and, besides, the DADA professors are fine this year."

"That's the point. They're scared." She mumbled in reply, her voice too low for any passing students to hear. "They finally know that a war is coming, and rightly figure that they'll need to have more than basic defensive skills. The Parkers are busy enough, so they're looking for another teacher."

"But why me?" Harry said with slight desperateness. "Some of them are older than me! The Eagles surely know more skills and—"

"—and you have the most experience." Ginny cut in. "You know what it's actually like to be out there in dangerous situations. It also doesn't hurt that they know you can teach."

He gave her a look at the last. "Oh? Why don't you do it then?"

"Are you that oblivious?" Ginny stopped walking to swirl about, staring Harry straight-on. "'Jenny' and Teddy are decent teachers, sure. But it's 'Henry' everyone loves."

His brow quirked in amusement. "Come on Ginny, you can't be serious."

"I am." She gazed at him, surprise threaded through her tone and expression. "You really haven't noticed? That man has the same demeanour in class that Remus did! You get the sense that he not only knows what he's talking about, but can make it simple and understandable to learn."

"Ginny—"

"I know you think he's annoying." Ginny rolled her eyes at the insanity of that. "But he manages to simultaneously joke around with his classes while teaching them advanced magic. Harry, everyone wants you to teach them because they _know_ you'll be incredible."

It was as though boiling water was rising rapidly inside him; a burning sensation that was causing his face to smart in the cold—did they really think that? No, Ginny was only being flattering. But, but he couldn't ignore that they had asked him, and most of them didn't seem to just want him to recount 'adventures'. Also, maybe doing the meetings would be a bit fun. Possibly. They could go over jinxes he'd learned for the Triwizard Tournament, he'd have an excuse to look up more theories without Ron getting on his case about turning into Hermione, maybe they could eventually learn patronuses—

"You're imagining the lessons, aren't you." Ginny said with a soft grin.

"What?" Harry shook away his thoughts. "No, course not. Haven't even agreed yet. Not going to. Absolutely not."

"Like I said, it's your choice." She shrugged, retaking snuggling his side as they at last continued on down the street. Her next words were breathed into his ear. "But either way, I expect certain _private lessons_. If you know what I mean."

Harry had never before appreciated just how beautiful the village of Hogsmeade was.

* * *

**A/N:** For those who didn't see this at the top, **VERY IMPORTANT! READ THIS! NOWNOWNOW! IMPORTANT NEWS! **This story's being rewritten! Not only is the 'Lupin reunion' finally up, but I'm adding in two sub-plots: _Harry_'s Occlumency lessons to Harry, and 'how-Al-and-Lily-became-convinced-their-dad's-the- Doctor' (I'm also working on inserting 'Doctor Who' references everywhere._ Allons-y!_). I've also consolidated some chapters together to make a cleaner, sleeker fic but, unfortunately, this site organises reviews based off of the chapter number. So if you review Chapter 5 and I combine Chapters 5 and 6, the review remains attached to the _new_ Chapter 5 (meaning that you wouldn't be able to leave a 'second' review to Chapter 5). So if you've been totally awesome and have consistently reviewed (THANK YOU SO MUCH!), you might not be able to review the next few numerical chapters. I'm really sorry! I'd still love to hear any feedback either through a PM or as a review to a previous chapter.

**—**The new scenes are back in these reworked chapters:

Ch. 21-Hesitance and Hugging: new last scene, 'Lupin Reunion'.

Ch. 22-Padawans and Polyjuice: new first scene, 'Occlumency'; new last scene, 'Wibbly-Wobbly-Doctorness'.

Ch. 27-Fallen Hearts and Floating Heads: small new addition of 'Wibbly-Wobbly-Doctorness'.

—These chapters are the new 'combined' ones:

Ch. 6-Freezing and Fabrications

Ch.7-Body-Binding and Bellowing


End file.
